


Camp Foxhole

by everythingsshiny



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Brief mention of a drug overdose, Enemies to Lovers, Found family and second home themes, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 15:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11671470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingsshiny/pseuds/everythingsshiny
Summary: Working at Camp Foxhole was supposed to be just another way for Neil to hide.Perhaps if he knew how chaotic a summer camp could get, or how prone one particular co-worker was to violence, he would have chosen to hide somewhere else.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written for the All for the Game big bang. I've been wanting to write an AFTG fic for a while, and I've been wanting to write a summer camp au for a while, so I decided to force myself to do both by signing up for a big bang. 
> 
> This fic ended up being super hard for me to write for a lot of reasons, and if there wasn't a deadline I probably would have kept tinkering with it for months . . . so good thing there was a deadline forcing me to let it go :) All things considered, I'm satisfied with it.
> 
> I worked at a summer camp for five years, and it's had a massive influence on me. While I stretched some things for the sake of the fic (for example, Andrew Minyard would never be allowed within 100 miles of children, lbr), a lot of stuff in here is drawn directly from my experiences. 
> 
> Huge thanks to the amazing artists paired with me, [lazyleezard](http://lazyleezard.tumblr.com/) and [lolrynesarting](http://lolrynesarting.tumblr.com/), for being patient with my constantly pushed back deadlines and producing stellar pieces of art for this fic.

The camp director glances up at Neil over the resume in his hand. Neil looks back with a steady gaze, careful not to show make any expression that might suggest just how fake that resume is.

“None of your references called back,” the director says.

“That’s surprising.” It’s not surprising. They were all fake.

The director puts the resume down and crosses his arms on his desk. They’re covered in tattoos, licks of flame running up his forearms. Neil’s surprised parents leave their kids with someone who looks like that. Then again, these aren’t normal kids, and they certainly don’t have normal parents.

“I can’t put you in a cabin without proof of prior experience with kids,” he says, giving Neil a level stare, and Neil gets the sense that this director can see through his lies. He pauses for a moment, and then says, “You sure you want to work here?”

“Yes.” It’s half a lie, which is more of a truth than Neil usually tells. He doesn’t particularly like the thought of working at a summer camp, but it would be a good way to get off the grid for a few months. Somewhere his father’s people would never think to look. And one of the banks where his mother’s money is stored is currently under investigation by the feds, cutting him off from his income. A summer camp would give him room and board, a small paycheck, and a place to hide. So he had gone to a library and searched the internet for the least reputable summer camp he could find.

Not that Camp Foxhole was a bad place, from what Neil could tell. It just wasn’t a place any normal kid would choose to go. Built for foster kids, troubled teens, and anyone with a messed up childhood, it was also mostly staffed by former foster kids, previously troubled teens, and anyone recovering from a messed up childhood. Whether that was a great idea that gave kids relatable role models or a terrible idea that led to disaster seemed to depend on who you asked, but Neil didn’t really care. He just cared that he was more likely to get a job there than anywhere else. All he needed was a story about a terrible childhood. Basically, he had to dumb his real story down.

That was easy to make believable. His made-up experience working with kids was harder to sell. Now director Wymack gives him a measuring look, and Neil’s pretty certain he’s going to be thrown out.

But instead Wymack says, “Can you cook?”

“Yes,” Neil lies.

“How good are you with tools?”

“Pretty good,” Neil lies again.

Wymack nods slowly. “There’s a lot of work that goes into making a camp run besides working with the kids. Cooking, cleaning, fixing things when they break. If you really want a place here, there’ll be more than enough work for you. Won’t be a fun job, though.”

“That’s fine,” Neil says.

Wymack gives him another measured look. “I’m taking a risk on you, letting you set foot on my camp. If you take one step out of line, if you so much as look at the kids the wrong way, you’re out. Understand?” When Neil nods, Wymack continues. “I know the look of someone who’s running. Whatever you’re trying to avoid back at home, do your job well and you’ll have a safe place here.”

More than comforting him, Wymack’s words make Neil want to bolt out of that room. Anyone who can guess that Neil’s running – even if they don’t understand what he’s running from – is a threat. But Neil can’t imagine getting a better deal. If he stays, he’ll have a paycheck and a hiding place, all given without question. If he goes, he’ll be out on his ass.

Two months, he tells himself. Camp only lasts for two months, and this Wymack won’t be able to figure much out about him in that amount of time. After that, he’ll pick a new place to lay low, choose a brand new name, and make it so this Wymack guy will lose all trace of him.

Two months of work at Camp Foxhole, and then, like so many aliases before him, Neil Josten will cease to exist.

*****

“This’ll be your room,” Wymack says, pushing a door open and revealing a small room with a bunk bed and a nightstand. “You’ll have a bunkmate during staff training week, but once the counselors move into their cabins you’ll have the place to yourself.”

It isn’t much to have to himself, but it’s downright luxurious compared to some of the places Neil’s been staying in recently. The room is on the second floor of the camp's lodge, the same building that houses the camp office and staff lounge. Through the window, Neil has a broad view of the camp’s gravel parking lot and, beyond it, a lush green hill dotted with cabins that slopes all the way down to the lakefront.

It’s been a little over a week since Wymack hired Neil to work at Camp Foxhole, a week spent drifting between motel rooms and wondering if he should just not show up on the day he was due to move in. A summer camp seemed like a good idea at first, but Neil’s beginning to wonder if he’ll be able to blend in at one without attracting suspicion. He’s never lived in such a closed community before. And at a place designed for trouble children, Neil has no idea what to expect.

But he doesn’t have any better ideas. So with his stomach knotted in anxiety and all his mother’s warnings about being careful running in a litany through the back of his mind, Neil showed up.

“Most of the staff will be arriving tomorrow,” Wymack’s saying to him now. “But there’s a handful that showed up early. I can introduce you once you’ve unpacked.”

“I don’t really need to unpack,” Neil says.

Wymack eyes his duffle bag. “Don’t you at least want to set up your bed?”

Neil doesn’t have any bedding besides a blanket he sometimes wraps himself in when he can’t find a real bed for the night. “I’m fine.”

Wymack looks at him for a second, then shrugs and lets it go. “Fine then. Let’s get you shown around.”

Neil drops his duffle bag under the bed (he doesn’t like leaving it, but he knows carrying it with him will look suspicious) and follows after Wymack.

The first people Wymack introduces him to only heighten Neil’s anxiety. Two women sit in the main office downstairs, chatting as they go through paperwork. Wymack introduces them as Abby, the camp nurse, and Betsy, the assistant director. They both greet Neil with warm smiles and friendly, personal questions. Neil has a backstory planned out and answers their questions with ease, but their strong desire to get to know him puts him on edge.  

After those introductions, Wymack takes him on a tour around the campground, pointing out the different buildings he’ll need to know about and the paths that lead up into the woods behind the lodge. Neil pays careful attention to the layout of the place, instinctively creating routes in his head for where he could run if someone ever came for him.

They complete their tour in the dining hall, and Neil’s surprised to hear voices coming from inside it. Wymack opens the door to a wide, high-ceilinged building with rows of long wooden tables. Neil can’t see anyone in the main room, but he can clearly hear the sound of bickering voices and what seems like boxes being moved around.

“There they are,” Wymack mutters. “Come on, let’s get you introduced to the monsters.”

Not the most inviting name for a group of people you’re about to get introduced to. Neil skeptically follows Wymack up to a wide window on the far wall.

As they approach, Neil sees that the window opens into a kitchen. He can see a large stove with eight separate burners, a long metal counter, and a mixer practically big enough to take a bath in (a nametag denotes that this mixer is apparently named King Mixkins). Pots and pans stained with grease hang in a disorganized array over the counter and clutter shelves underneath it. Neil can’t see these “monsters” anywhere in the kitchen, but he can hear them. 

“Because when you move stuff, I don’t know where it is, and when I don’t know where it is, I can’t plan the menu,” a very clearly irritated voice says.

“Okay, okayyyy,” another boy replies, his voice pitched higher as he tries to pacify the grumpy one. “I get it. Never touching your stuff again, oh King of the Kitchen. Promise.”

“Either help or get out,” the first voice says. “That goes for all of you.”

Wymack strides up to the counter and places his palms on it, leaning into the kitchen. “Day! Someone for you to meet.” A second later, a dark-haired boy appears from behind a row of cabinets. “Neil, this is Kevin Day. Kevin, Neil Josten. The boy who’s going to be working with you this summer.”

“He’s working in the kitchen?” Kevin Day asks. He’s wearing an apron even though he isn’t cooking anything, and he crosses his arms and gives Neil a critical look. Another boy, slightly shorter and with a darker complexion, curiously pokes his head out from behind the cabinets to watch the interaction.

“No, in the other place you work,” Wymack says sarcastically.

Kevin’s critical look continues. “You know how to cook?”

“Yes,” Neil lies.

“Well, forget everything you know. Cooking for two hundred campers is much harder than anything you’ve ever done.”

“Way to make our new friend feel welcome, Kevin,” the boy leaning around the cabinets says. Kevin scowls, but the boy doesn’t seem to notice as he steps up to the counter and holds his hand over it. “Nicky Hemmick, cabin counselor. Pleasure. You’re going to love the Foxhole, it’s a great place.” Then he glances to the side, towards Kevin, and says, “Though some people can get a bit grouchy.”

Kevin’s doesn’t dignify that with a response as Neil shakes Nicky’s hand.

“Did you come here as a kid?” Nicky asks. “I don’t remember seeing you around.”

“No.”

“Cool, fresh meat,” Nicky says. Then he yells over his shoulder, “Aaron, come out and meet the new kid.”

Another boy rounds the corner, this one short and blond with a bored expression. He looks at Neil as though his very existence is an inconvenience.

“My cousin, Aaron, head lifeguard here,” Nicky says. Aaron gives Neil nothing more than a simple nod, which Neil honestly prefers to Nicky’s exuberance. Neil nods in return.

“Day, think you can show him the ropes?” Wymack says. “I have to get back to the office.”

“Fine,” Kevin says.

“Great. Don’t let him get scared away,” Wymack says as a parting word.

“As if we could prevent that from happening,” Nicky mutters cryptically under his breath.

“Come in,” Kevin instructs him. “I was checking inventory for this week, so we’ll start in the storeroom.”

There’s a set of wooden double doors next to the window that lead into the kitchen. Neil steps through them and finds himself surrounded by racks of silverware, stacks of plates, and an industrial-sized dishwasher that, like the mixer, has a namgetag. (This one is Sir Dish Wash McDisherson.) Kevin motions for Neil to follow him, then walks past three massive sinks to a door at the back of the kitchen.

“This room is storage for everything that gets stored at room temperature. Canned goods, breads, cereal.” Kevin opens the door, and then crosses his arms in displeasure. “Marshmallows,” he deadpans.

Neil looks over Kevin’s shoulder, then turns around to make sure Aaron’s still behind him. The exact clone of Aaron sits on a metal table inside the storeroom. There’s an open bag of marshmallows in front of him, and he doesn’t slow the rate at which he pops them in his mouth even as Kevin glowers at him.

“Those are for the campers,” Kevin says.

“Fascinating.”

Neil watches Kevin, waiting for him to yell like he had been yelling at Nicky earlier. But Kevin remains silent, if noticeably pissed, in the doorway. Something about this guy has Kevin acting a little more cautious.

Neil examines this guy, trying to figure out what’s keeping everyone from confronting him. Nicky and Aaron, too, are hanging back, content to watch this interaction from behind Neil’s back. At first glance he doesn’t look like much – extremely short, blond hair, stocky build. But the more Neil looks, the more he notices the subtle tells of someone slightly dangerous. How his posture is tense, even as he lounges on the table. How his expression is completely empty. How Kevin’s anger is so little of a concern that he barely even bothers to acknowledge him.

The guy looks up and notices Neil’s gaze on him. He returns it, and for a moment the two of them make eye contact, unblinking. There’s no hint of expression in those hazel eyes, but there’s intensity in them regardless. He looks at him, Neil realizes, as if sizing up a threat. 

“What’s this?” he asks eventually. He puts the marshmallows down and slides off the table, striding toward Neil. Kevin hurries to snatch the marshmallows up, close the bag, and put them back in their place on the shelves.

“This is Neil,” Nicky supplies. “The guy who’s going to be helping with the kitchen and maintenance. Neil, my cousin Andrew.”

“Help with maintenance?” Andrew asks, stopping just inches away from Neil. “Ah, you’ll be working for me. How fun. I’ve never had a subordinate before. Can’t wait to see what I can do with you.”

Andrew doesn’t break eye contact, so Neil doesn’t either. “You do maintenance here?”

“I do. They needed somewhere safe to put me. Can’t work with kids when you have a criminal record and all that.” He crosses his arms and looks up at Neil, as though waiting to see what his response will be. As if he expects Neil to be shocked to learn that he has a criminal record. Neil couldn’t care less. It takes a lot more than a midget with a dead look in his eye to get him to worry.

“What brings you to the Foxhole?” Andrew asks.

“I needed a job.”

“Then work at Starbucks.”

“I wanted to work here.”

“No one from the outside wants to work here.” He tilts his head to the side, considering. “Do we have a liar on our hands?”

“Interrogate him later,” Kevin juts in, annoyed. “I have to show him around.”

“You know what? I think I’ll do just that.” Andrew pats Neil on the shoulder a little too hard to be friendly. “See you around, Neil.”

*****

Kevin’s training of Neil lasts for hours, and by the end of that time Neil’s wondering what he’s gotten himself into. Kevin is way too intense about the kitchen, and he berates Neil for every mistake. It’s a small price to pay for safety, but it’s going to be irritating as hell.

The rest of the “monsters” had unhelpfully left Kevin and Neil to their work, but they show up again early that evening. Kevin finally shoos Neil away when he sees the other three boys approaching through the kitchen window. Neil’s not sure why Kevin wants him gone, but he’s fine with an excuse to leave. He exits through a back door and returns to his room in the lodge.

The office is empty when Neil passes by it, the adults apparently having cleared out for the night. Neil climbs the creaking stairs to his room and finds that someone has put sheets and a pillow on his bed. It’s a thoughtful gesture. It’s also really unsettling how easily someone can come into his room without him knowing about it.

Neil’s looking around his tiny room and trying to figure out if he can set some form of a trap, or at least some sort of system that would alert him if anyone had been there, when he hears the sound of someone knocking on the doorframe.

“Hey.” Nicky leans in the doorway and gives him a smile that seems a little too bright to be natural. “Settling in ok? We were going to do a little cookout for dinner. Want to join us? Hike into the woods. Cook over a fire. Classic camp stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck and gives Neil another smile.

“I’m fine. I’ll just grab something from the kitchen,” Neil says. He’d rather spend his evening figuring out some way to secure his room, and maybe getting himself more familiar with the campground. He also isn’t enthusiastic about spending more time with Kevin.

“Um, well, pretty much all the food in there is on the menu for the next few weeks. Don’t want to accidentally grab anything that’s meant for the campers and piss Kevin off,” Nicky says.

“I’ll figure it out.”

The false smile drops away. “Ok, Andrew’s insisting that you come.”

“Andrew?”

“Short, scary, ate all of Kevin’s marshmallows today.”

“I remember who Andrew is,” Neil says, irritated. “Why does he care?”

“Why don’t you come and ask him?”

Neil frowns. He glances down at his duffle bag, trying to calculate the course of action. He is curious, and he could tell from their short interaction earlier that day that this Andrew is a threat. Not a big threat, but a threat nonetheless. A part of him wants to know what the point of this cookout is. A bigger part of him doesn’t really want to leave his stuff behind if he’s going deep into the woods in the company of people he doesn’t trust.

“Don’t bother bringing that,” Nicky says, noticing where Neil’s gaze falls. “We have everything we need.”

Neil picks the bag up in spite of him and loops the strap around his shoulder.

Nicky cocks an eyebrow. “Okayyyyy or you can lug that thing out into the woods with you. What’s in it that’s so special? You got the cure for cancer in there?”

Neil shrugs. “It’s everything I own.”

“You mean . . . _everything_?”

Neil gives him a flat look. “Yes.”

“Sheesh. Ok, well, I guess I’d be paranoid too if all my worldly possessions were in one place. You know what? Follow me.”

Nicky heads downstairs, and Neil, with his duffle over his shoulder, follows him. He steps into the empty office, crossing in front of the desk to a box hanging from the wall. There are rows of keys hanging from hooks inside it. Nicky takes one of these keys out and tosses it to Neil. “This is a camp key. It’ll get you in almost anywhere you need to go. Take it and use it to lock your bag up in that supply closet over there.”

Neil does so. He doesn’t like the idea of it being available to anyone who knows to take a key from the key box, but it’s better than being out in the open.

“Great. Now you’re ready to have fun. Let’s go.”

Neil doubts that he’ll have much fun, but he slides the key into his pocket and follows Nicky out of the office.

The sun’s just starting to set, sparkling off the lake that rests at the bottom of the hill and basking the camp in the idyllic glow of late evening. Neil glances toward it, allowing himself a rare chance to appreciate a beautiful sight. When he glances back at Nicky, he’s walking toward the waterfront instead of in the direction of the woods where Wymack had said most of the campsites were.

“There’s a couple fire pits down near the water. See how the woods continues around the edge of the camp and then meets the shore? That’s where we’re going,” Nicky explains. “The others should already be there.” Neil nods and follows.

He would be content to walk to the campsite in silence, but that doesn’t seem to be an option for Nicky. As they cross the campground and enter the woods, he peppers Neil with questions about his background, where he grew up, and why he wanted to work at a summer camp. Neil created a pretty in-depth alias when he applied for this job, but he’s not thrilled with Nicky’s curiosity. He seems a little too interested, and Neil’s always suspicious of people who are interested in him.

As they pass under the tree line, Neil turns the questions back to Nicky, hoping to distract him. “So, where are you from?”

“Oh, Columbia,” Nicky says, naming the nearest city. “I was raised around here and have been coming to this camp for a while. Started as a Red, then worked my way up to counselor.”

“As a what?”

“Red. It’s one of the age divisions. They’re all named after different types of foxes – get it? Kits are the youngest, then Fennecs – if you don’t know what a fennec fox is you should totally Google it, they’re adorable – then Swifts are middle school kids, and Reds are high school kids. Aaron started coming here as a Swift on a recommendation from a school counselor, so my parents knew about the place. They thought it would have a slightly different impact on me than it did, but I turned out alright.”

Noticing that Nicky just mentioned one twin, Neil asks, “What about Andrew?”

“Oh, well, Andrew’s kind of a funny story . . .” They round a bend, and Neil sees firelight flickering between the trees. That seems to distract Nicky. “Oh, great, they started the fire already. I hate starting fires. You have to gather wood, you get dirty, the smell of smoke sticks in your clothes. It’s torturous.”

“If you don’t like getting dirty, why do you work at a summer camp?” Neil asks.

“Ah, well, it’s more the place then the whole summer camp aspect of the place,” he says with a shrug. “I hate the woods, I hate the bugs, I hate the food – don’t tell Kevin that – and I hate living without AC all summer. But it’s the Foxhole, and I’m a fox. It’s home.”

That doesn’t seem like a very good explanation to Neil, but he doesn’t have a chance to ask for a better one. At that moment, they arrive at the clearing around the fire pit. This campsite sits right next to the lake, and Neil can see the sun setting over the water, creating a breathtaking view as it streaks the sky with pinks and golds that get reflected by the water. The camp waterfront, with its docks and boats bobbing in the waves, is within sight a few dozen yards down the shore. A faded sign nailed to a tree labels this campsite “Eden’s Twilight.”

It’s a fairly large clearing with a picnic table a few feet away from the fire pit, and logs and stones providing makeshift seating closer to the fire. Kevin stands at the table unwrapping raw burger patties and putting them on a paper plate while Aaron squats beside the fire and feeds more wood into it. Andrew sits on a stone and holds a flaming stick dangerously close to his face, staring at it expressionlessly. He drops it back into the fire when Neil arrives, throwing up sparks and earning a scowl from his twin as he does so.

“Neil. What a delight. I almost thought you wouldn’t make it.”

“Why’d you want me here?”

Andrew looks at him, and then looks at Nicky. Nicky shrugs and gives him a sheepish smile. “That’s an interesting question. Why wouldn’t I want you here, hm?”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to have a good time.” Andrew reaches for a can that sits on the ground next to him. He opens it and holds it over the fire to Neil. Neil reads the label and gives it a skeptical look.

“I thought this was a dry camp.”

“Camp’s not in session yet.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Pity.” Andrew takes a swig of the beer for himself, then nods over to Kevin. “Give our friend some bug juice,” he says.

“Bug juice?”

“It’s shitty fruit punch made from a powder,” Nicky explains. “But we call it bug juice to make it sound like a fun camp thing.”

Kevin pours something from a plastic jug into a styrofoam cup and brings it over to Neil. He takes a sip and makes a face at the too-sweet, abrasive taste. “This really is shitty fruit punch.”

“That’s why it needs a fun name,” Nicky says. “Kids would never drink it otherwise. We ready to start cooking?”

“Put the grill over the fire,” Kevin instructs.

The grill turns out to be nothing more than a sheet of wires that gets balanced on the rocks ringing the fire pit. Kevin brings over the burger patties and another plate of hot dogs, using tongs to drop them onto the grill and let the flames cook them from below. Kevin, Aaron, and Nicky lean over the fire, cooking with an ease that suggests they’ve done this hundreds of times. Andrew sits back, drinks, and watches. He insists that Neil sit on log beside him, then brings the jug of bug juice from the picnic table and makes sure Neil’s cup is never empty.

By the time the food’s cooked, Neil’s starting to feel oddly relaxed. The dancing flames draw his vision, flickering between the wires of the grill in a mesmerizing dance while he eats the burger he’s been handed. He’s aware of the sun setting over the water behind his back, and the night air settles across his skin, pleasantly cool. Nighttime noises begin to fill the air, with crickets chirping and nocturnal birds calling across the lake. The whole thing has a hazy, dreamlike feel to it.

By the time the sun’s finished setting, the other boys are little more than shadows around the campfire, the firelight highlighting the planes of their faces and casting the rest in darkness. Nicky throws his head back to laugh at something, and the strange lighting makes him look almost demonic. Kevin’s staring into the fire, and Neil thinks he sees Aaron roll his eyes, but it’s difficult to make out any details like that. Andrew sits next to him, silent as a stone, drinking and refilling Neil’s cup.

Neil holds his hand out in front of him and watches it sway in the firelight. He feels . . . strange. Almost as though he’s in a dream. He tries to remind himself that he’s in danger, that he needs to be alert around these people, but his thoughts swim in and out, and his usually sharp instincts feel muddled.

Andrew puts Neil’s refilled cup back in his hand. It’s the fifth cup he’s had.

“I don’t need any more,” Neil says. His speech comes out muddled.

“No, maybe you don’t,” Andrew says. “Why don’t we have a talk instead.”

Something’s wrong. Something he’d understand if his mind wasn’t so hazy. Neil stares at the cup, then at Andrew. He sniffs it, and Andrew immediately tenses. His gaze is suddenly much more interested than it was a second ago.

Neil stands up so quickly that he nearly trips on uneven feet. He throws his cup into the fire, and the bug juice – and whatever else was in it – spills over the logs with a harsh sizzle.

“Hey, hey, what is it?” Nicky asks. He stands, as though to help Neil. But Neil notices everyone else standing, as well. And he notices everyone inching toward him, as if ready to grab him.

His instincts are anything but muddled now. They’re screaming as he bolts on unsteady feet, searching for the path that’s now hidden in the dark.

Nicky gets there first. He puts an arm around Neil’s shoulders, trapping him in a show of friendliness. Kevin and Aaron stand on his other side, quiet but daring Neil to run. “Hey there, nothing’s going to happen,” Nicky says. “We’re not going to bite.”

Neil flinches away from his touch. He feels his heart thundering against his chest, every nerve poised to run. “You _drugged_ me,” Neil says.

“We just wanted to help you relax. Help you have a good time.” Nicky ushers him back to the fire. “You seemed kind of high strung. We thought this would be a good chance to loosen you up, get to know you.”

“Go to hell.”

“Feisty one, huh?” Andrew says. “You might just prove to be interesting.” He’s risen to his feet, but he hasn’t moved from his spot by the fire. There’s a knife in his hand that wasn’t there a minute ago, twirling over and over in his fingers.

“Fuck you.” He shoves Nicky off him and registers from Nicky’s yelp that he nearly got in the fire. Good. Kevin and Aaron quietly move to stand behind Neil, cutting off his exit.

“Oh Neil, Neil,” Andrew says. “We’re not going to hurt you. Not unless you give us a reason to.”

“What do you want from me?” Neil asks, stalling as he looks for a way out. Andrew’s right in front of him – he could fight him if necessary, but the knife in his hand makes that prospect unappealing. Behind him stand Kevin, Nicky, and Aaron. To his right is the fire; to his left, the lake. He’s trapped.

“I just want to know who you are, Neil.” Andrew takes a couple steps closer, the knife flashing in the firelight. “Who is Neil Josten? A stray that conveniently shows up right before the summer starts. No past, no references. Wymack likes to take in strays, but me, I’m not so welcoming. I like to know who these strays are and where they come from.”

Neil takes a cautious step backward. Andrew takes a step forward to match. “I can tell you where I’m from. It’s not very interesting,” Neil says.

Andrew makes a clucking noise and shakes his head. “No, no, no. The _real_ story. I know a runaway when I see one, ‘Neil.’ What’s chasing you? Hm? What do you want with the kids?”

Neil takes a small step to his left. Very, very slowly, so that it’s unnoticeable in the dark, he starts to slip out of his shoes. “I don’t care about the kids.”

Andrew points the knife at Neil’s throat, just inches away. “Wrong answer. Wrong answer to the wrong question. Let’s take them in order now. What are you running from?”

Neil shifts to the left, checking his position. Then he turns back to Andrew and says, “Well, right now, you.”

And he takes a running jump into the lake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1st piece of big bang art at the end of this chapter!

There’s nothing that’ll sober you up quite like jumping into a cold lake with your clothes on.

Neil comes up for air just in time to hear Nicky screaming, “Jesus H. Christ!” in panic. After that Neil keeps his head under water as much as possible, hoping that the group will lose sight of him in the dark. His mother taught him to swim just in case he ever needed to make a water escape. It pays off now as he heads toward the camp waterfront.

He considers swimming in the opposite direction and hiding out in the woods on the far bank, but he has no idea what else is around this lake or how long it’ll take. And his duffle is still on camp property. So he returns to the camp beach and treads water behind the sailboats until the shouts from Andrew’s group have gone quiet and Neil’s certain that they’re close to giving up the hunt for the night.

There’s a speedboat tied to the camp dock that Neil manages to lift himself into. He forces himself to lie on the boat’s floor, staring up at the sky and waiting for his heart to stop pounding. He needs to leave, tonight. But if he goes back the lodge to get his stuff, he’ll just run into Andrew and his crew again. He needs to wait a few hours to guarantee that they’ve given up and gone to sleep. Then he’ll head back up the hill, grab his bag, and disappear into the woods without leaving a trace.

*****

The next time Neil opens his eyes, the sun is shining on his face.

Neil jerks upright and practically leaps from the boat to the dock in the same motion. He can’t believe he fell asleep. He’s never been a sound sleeper or able to nod off easily. The alcohol must have made him pass out.

No one’s come for him in the night, but someone might have his bag. Does he risk sneaking back to the lodge to find it? Or should he assume it’s too late and get in a canoe before anyone can come for him?

“Oh good, you’re up.”

Neil whirls around. Huddled in a blanket on the lifeguard chair is a familiar, dark-skinned figure. Nicky.

Neil bolts a few feet down the dock to where a row of kayaks are moored outside the swimming area. He jumps in one and unclips it from the dock, pushing himself off. The paddles are stored on shore, but maybe he can use his hands to propel himself. The he can head to a wooded part of the bank far away from the camp and hide out in the forest until –

Neil’s boat jerks wildly. Nicky has jumped onto the stern and is holding on for dear life. The water is so shallow in this part of the lake that he manages to plant his feet on the bottom and keep Neil in place even as Neil tries to paddle himself forward. “Jesus Christ, calm down,” Nicky says. “We’re not going to kill you.”

“Sure. Just drug me,” Neil retorts.

“Yeah, well, Andrew has weird ways of getting- hey!” Neil’s jumped out of the kayak and is now wading across the muddy lake bottom, hurrying for water deep enough to swim in.

He hears Nicky moving through the shallows behind him and tries to run faster, but he’s outside the cleaned swimming section and the mucky bottom grabs at his feet. Nicky closes the distance between them with a splash and jumps onto Neil’s back. They both tumble into the murky water, their knees sinking into the mud. “Hey, ok, listen for a second. Ok? Just listen. I realize we kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

“Kind of,” Neil sarcastically agrees. Nicky has his arms wrapped around him in what probably looks like an awkward hug, his taller size helping to sink Neil deeper into the mud.

“Ok, really. A lot. I didn’t like the plan, but Andrew kind of does things to extremes sometimes.” 

“You didn’t like it, you just made sure I came along and couldn’t run away.”

Nicky winces, though that’s probably less due to Neil’s words and more due to how he elbows Nicky in the gut while he’s speaking.

“Ouch! Alright. I deserved that,” Nicky says. “Ok, look. Holding onto you like this is really uncomfortable and it makes it kind of hard to have a civilized conversation. If I let go, are you going to try to run again?”

“Give me one good reason to stay.”

“You have nowhere else to go?”

“How do you know that?”

Nicky must have heard the fear underlying Neil’s question, because his tone becomes even more frantic. “I don’t! I swear, I don’t. I don’t know anything about who you are, where you came from, or what your dramatic backstory is. So whatever you’re running from, running from me isn’t going to help, ok? I don’t even know if you really are running from something. That was Andrew’s guess.” Nicky lets go but stands poised over Neil, ready to spring if he decides to run again. “I just said that you have nowhere else to go because, well, you’re a fox.”

Neil lifts his knees out of the mud with a squelching noise and rises to his feet. “I’m not a fox.”

“You’re at the Foxhole, aren’t you?”

“I’m not one of you.”

“No? So you have a great home life that you’d happily return to at any time?” When Neil doesn’t respond, Nicky says, “Thought so.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Nicky sighs, running a wet hand through his hair. “Ok, I’m going to explain this as clearly as I can. The Foxhole is for messed up people. That’s supposed to mean the campers, but usually it means staff and counselors, too. But not all messed up people are great for being around kids. So if someone shows up out of the blue with no history here, Andrew just likes to . . . make sure of things.”

“By drugging people?”

“Relaxing them.”

“Bullshit. You can’t convince me that psycho has a soft spot in his heart for taking care of kids.”

Nicky shrugs. “I don’t think there’s a soft spot in any part of him. But he’s protective.” Neil snorts. “Look, I’m sure you’ve got trauma you don’t want to talk about. We all do. But the sooner you tell Andrew what your story is, the sooner he’ll leave you alone and make everything easier for all of us. Unless, of course, you really would rather swim away and live as a hermit in the woods somewhere. If that’s still what you want to do, I guess I can’t stop you.” Nicky raises his hands, as though gesturing that he’s finally letting Neil go.

Neil looks out across the lake. It’ll be a long swim, but he’s managed more difficult things for the sake of protecting his life. “You say you’re not a threat, but you were here when I woke up,” Neil says. 

“To make sure you didn’t die, kid!” Nicky exclaims. “You were wet, drunk, and sleeping in a speedboat. What was I supposed to do, leave you to your fate? Jesus, you gave us a heart attack when you jumped into the lake like that. I was scared to death, and you should have heard the way Kevin went at Andrew. And Aaron nearly shit himself when he finally found you in the speedboat. They left me behind to watch over you because they said I was the least threatening. I’m going to be catching up on my beauty sleep for weeks.”

“You were scared for me?”

“Of course we were scared! What did you expect? That we would shrug and say, ‘Oh well, looks like he drowned. Nice knowing him’?”

Neil’s silence reveals his answer.

Nicky’s expression falls suddenly, and he puts his hand on Neil’s shoulder in a disconcertingly affectionate way. “Shit, what kind of fucked up home did you come from? Listen, kid. We may drug people and we may threaten them at knifepoint – there’s a reason everyone calls us the monsters – but we will never, ever hurt someone that doesn’t deserve it. Ok?”

Neil glances again at the clear blue expanse of the lake, partly to judge just how far it would be if he were to swim for it, and partly because he doesn’t want to deal with Nicky’s pitying stare. He doesn’t need pity from someone who helped trick and threaten him.

Nicky follows his gaze. “Hey, if you really do want to swim away like you’re Free Willy, go for it. It’s your life. But from one fox to another, I think your life is going to become a whole lot better if you stay.”

Neil’s too vulnerable if he stays here – he learned that the hard way last night. And even if Nicky’s telling the truth and he has no idea about Neil’s father, it’s still not safe. Any suspicious person is a threat, even if they’re suspicious for the wrong reasons.

The tree line on the far side of the lake is far enough away that the jagged row of pines have a hazy blueish tinge to them. The rising sun shines from behind Neil and sparkles on the water, lighting it up like rows of diamonds. It really is a beautiful place. Neil’s not used to staying in beautiful places – he’s used to cities and abandoned buildings, long highways and crowded airports. And the rare times he’s ended up somewhere beautiful, he’s always had to leave much too soon.

He turns back to Nicky, who’s watching him with concern. Neil doesn’t buy that concern. You don’t drug someone and then worry about them.

But then, Andrew’s group did search for Neil, apparently long after he thought they had given up. And Nicky did spend the night on the beach, watching over him. It’s been a while since anyone watched over him.

Neil sighs. He tries not to imagine what his mother would say as he trudges out of the shallows of the lake. His reason for staying, he tells himself, is because it would simply be impractical to go anywhere without his duffle. “Don’t mess with me again,” he says to Nicky as a warning.

They return to the lodge in silence. Neil finds his duffle locked away where he had left it, everything inside untouched. Inside his room, he sees that someone has brought his sneakers out of the woods and tossed them near his bed. Nicky leaves him to take a nap, and the rest of Andrew’s group is nowhere to be found.

Neil takes a shower and changes into a dry set of clothes. By the time he’s done it’s late morning, and the camp is silent outside his bedroom window. He looks down to the parking lot, and the long gravel road that leads away from the camp. He could still run, head down that road and to the wooded street beyond. Now that he has his bag and is no longer wet and barefoot, his chances of survival are a lot higher.

But as he considers this, a pink car rolls down the camp road, jolting across the gravel. A pickup truck follows close behind it, loaded with suitcases in the back. The cars pull up next to each other in the gravel parking area, and people jump out of them to greet each other with hugs. As Neil watches, even more cars start to come down the road. There’s no way he can sneak out of camp now, not with so many people near the entrance.

The staff has started to arrive for staff training week, and running unnoticed will be a lot harder now that the foxes have returned to the Foxhole.

*****

The counselors and staff arrive gradually over the course of the next few hours. Neil watches every person carefully through his window, observing their mannerisms for anything that could be interpreted as a threat. Little by little, noise fills the previously silent camp. People call across the parking lot to old friends, and the screen door to the main office creaks open and slams closed constantly as the staff members check in with Wymack and Betsey. The female counselors grab their bags from their cars and head to another lodge on the opposite side of the parking lot, while footsteps on the stairs announce to Neil that the male counselors are joining him above the office

Midway through the staff arrival, Neil can see Andrew, Aaron, and Kevin coming up the hill from wherever they had been before. Most of the counselors give them a wide berth, and Neil notices a decent number of them casting suspicious glances at the group. Only one girl, her hair dyed in pastel colors at the tips, actually greets them. Neil watches with interest as they speak with each other. Andrew’s smiling, something Neil didn’t see at all yesterday. Though there’s something very off about this smile. It doesn’t seem genuinely happy. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey there.”

Neil spins around and gets up from his bed. A giant stands in his doorway, easily over six feet tall, with gelled up hair that makes him look even taller. He gives Neil a much brighter smile than the situation warrants.

“Hey,” Neil replies. He hopes it sounds friendly, but all he’s thinking about is how this guy could probably take him in a fight if he wanted to.

“Are you a new counselor?” the giant asks.

“Maintenance and kitchen help.”

“Oh, cool. We always need more help like that, things are spread so thin here.” He steps into the room and dumps a duffle and sleeping bag on the top bunk. “I’m Matt Boyd, fennec counselor. Nice to meet you,” he says, holding out a hand.

“Neil Josten.” Neil lets Matt dwarf his own hand in his giant grip.

“What brought you to the Foxhole?”

“I was looking for a summer job and thought it was a good fit.” And then so this Matt doesn’t get too curious about him, Neil asks. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’ve been coming here for years. I started as a camper and went through the counselor training program.” He smiles. “I had no idea what I was getting into when I started, but it’s been great. I’ve met some of my best friends at the Foxhole.”

Matt starts unrolling his sleeping bag and making up the top bunk. Neil takes a couple steps back to get out of his way and the leans against the wall, observing this guy. He sees Matt open his mouth to ask him another question – probably personal – and cuts him off with the first thing he can think of. “Do you know much about Andrew’s group?”

Neil winces internally at how random that question sounded. But if Matt finds it at all suspicious, he doesn’t comment. Instead he says, “The monsters? You want to know more about the people you’re going to be working with in the kitchen and maintenance?”

It’s a normal-sounding reason for asking the question, and so Neil nods.

“They’re . . .” Matt pauses in making his bed to think. “They’re hard to get along with, but they mean well. I think.” He resumes what he’s doing but keeps his attention on Neil as much as he can. “Kevin’s really intense about that kitchen, but I think that’s just the way he is. I think he’s happiest when he can focus all his energy on making something great. From the way he goes on about the kitchen and this camp, though, you’d think he’d been here for years.”

“He hasn’t?”

“He showed up in the middle of last summer,” Matt says. “He’d been a counselor at a sports camp, and for some reason he left without warning. No one’s really sure why, and no one’s sure why he chose to come here instead of just going home. Wymack put him to work as the assistant cook, but everyone knew it was a pity hire at the time. Course, he did so well that he’s promoted now. And he joined up with Andrew’s gang.” Matt shrugs. “No one’s really sure why that happened, either.”

“What about Andrew?”

“Andrew’s a weird case, too. He came here as a camper, part of our foster kid program – foster kids get cheaper tuition. I wasn’t around then, but people say he was a terror when he first came. Big surprise, huh? Then he comes face to face with his twin brother, and I guess they almost got along at first, but-”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, Andrew and Aaron were separated at birth. They met each other here.”

It sounds like too strange of a story to be true. “Really?”

“Weird coincidence, right?”

“It’s like the parent trap, but more fucked up,” someone says from the doorway.

Neil and Matt turn around. Neil scowls. Matt smiles. “Hey, Nicky.”

“Hey there. Telling stories about us?”

“Nothing more damning than what he’s already seen, I’m sure. How was your year?”

Nicky shrugs. “It dragged by. How was yours?”

“Not too bad.”

“You going to be with me in Fennecs again this year?”

“Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere else.”

“That’s why I like you, Boyd.”

Someone else shouts, “Hey, Matt!” from the hallway. Matt calls, “Hey, Seth,” back at the retreating form laden down with his bags. Nicky scowls and sticks his tongue out at the guy’s back, but then turns back to Matt and continues his conversation as though nothing happened.

Matt and Nicky talk for a few minutes more, discussing which counselors have left, which ones have returned, and where they’re going to be short-staffed. Neil hovers in the background hoping that they’ll forgot he’s there, but no such luck. The two boys soon decide that it’s vital that Neil gets introduced to every other counselor at the camp. In short order Neil’s getting pulled down the hall and introduced to what must be a dozen guys he won’t remember. As they’re going from room to room, Neil hears a familiar voice behind him.

“Neil! You survived until another day. I’m impressed.”

Just the sound of that voice speeds Neil’s pulse, and he feels his temper flare. He turns to face Andrew. Kevin and Aaron flank him, watching the exchange passively. Neil notices several other counselors looking up from their conversations and trying to watch discreetly.

“Why wouldn’t you have ‘survived’?” Matt asks quietly. For the first time since they met, the friendly tone has disappeared from Matt’s voice.

Neil doesn’t answer. He strides down the hall to confront Andrew, his fists clenching. Andrew’s grinning at him with the same smile he had in the parking lot. It’s broad and bright, but his eyes are glassy and unfocused, making him appear somewhat unhinged.

“No thanks to you,” Neil says.

“You’re not going to run away? You seemed to really want to do that yesterday.”

“I’m not afraid of you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oohhh.” Andrew makes a face of mock alarm, which dissolves into manic laughter. He looks around at the other counselors he knows are watching, but they all turn away from his gaze. “Listen to this tough guy. Oh, you will turn out to be interesting.”

“Stay away from me.”

“No, no, I can’t do that.” Andrew gives a loud, dramatic mock sigh. “You see, you’re not afraid of me, but you’re afraid of something. And people who are afraid of something are desperate – as you so clearly demonstrated when you took your little bath last night. And desperate people are dangerous.”

“You’d know something about being dangerous.”

Andrew’s manic smile gets a little brighter. “I would,” he says, and then he laughs. Neil turns away, disgusted.

“What was that all about?” Matt asks when Neil’s back by his side.

Neil looks at Nicky, whose face falls under Neil’s gaze. “Nicky, why don’t you tell him what that was all about?” he says.

He returns to his room, leaving Nicky to splutter and protest behind him.

*****

Neil plunges his arms into a sink filled with soapy water, scrubbing yet another pot free of the residue of that night’s dinner. Earlier, Kevin had wheeled over a large tub overflowing with pots and pans. In response to Neil’s dismayed expression, he had said, “You think this is a lot? When the campers get here the dirty dishes will be tripled.” And then he had set Neil to work.

For most of staff training week there will be counselors assigned to help clean up after meals, and during the summer campers can sign up for the “volunteer crew” and wash dishes in return for discounted tuition. But tonight it’s just Neil and Kevin. After less than an hour of work, Neil’s already thinking that he would gladly go the rest of his life without seeing any more of this stuffy, humid kitchen. Which is unfortunate, given that he’ll be working there all summer.

“Hey,” Kevin says from behind him, and Neil braces himself for a lecture on how he’s scrubbing wrong or something. But instead Kevin just says, “Let’s go.”

Neil glances at the tub, still over half full. Kevin had seemed pretty serious about getting everything done as fast as possible. “Go?”

“We’ll finish later tonight. There’s a staff meeting tonight.”

Neil drops his pan and drains the dirty water from the sink. He removes the apron that he’d been using to keep his clothes somewhat dry and the orange bandana that Kevin insisted must be worn over his hair whenever he’s working in the kitchen. Kevin’s waiting impatiently by the door when Neil finishes – and, much to Neil’s disappointment, Andrew and his lot are waiting with him.

The rest of the staff is already streaming out the door, but Andrew’s group makes no effort to walk with them. After less than a night Neil can already tell that the staff is separated into cliques. Nicky gets along with Matt, but when Andrew’s around Nicky follows him like a tail, as do Aaron and Kevin. Matt generally hangs out with a trio of girls, including the one Neil had seen talking to Andrew in the parking lot, and with the Seth kid that Nicky had stuck his tongue out at. There are a handful of other counselors – it takes at least 20 counselors for the camp to function, not counting all the support staff like himself – but Neil doesn’t concern himself with them. The more people he gets to know, the more dangerous things are for him.

The sun has almost set by now, and in the dim light a fire burns on the middle of the camp’s hill like a beacon. The shadowy forms of counselors mill around it, standing in groups near the flame or by a cluster of picnic tables a few feet away. Some stand next to the fire holding long metal sticks over the flames, while others are sitting at the picnic tables eating something.

Neil approaches the fire and walks into a scene so cliché he’s surprised it’s real. The counselors place marshmallows onto the ends of the metal sticks, and once they’re properly toasted – Neil sees everything from golden brown edges to marshmallows literally set on fire – Abby and Betsy help sandwich them between graham crackers and chocolate. Neil hadn’t realized that s’mores existed outside of TV. Next thing you know they’ll be singing songs and telling ghost stories.

A pile of these metal sticks leans against the edge of one of the picnic tables. Andrew grabs one and shoves three marshmallows onto the tip before making his way to the fire. Neil doesn’t miss how the other counselors move out of the way as he passes. Kevin, Nicky, and Aaron all opt for the much more reasonable marshmallow quantity of one.

Once Andrew’s lot is occupied with toasting their marshmallows, Neil sits down at an unoccupied picnic table. He doesn’t feel the need to make himself a s’more, and he wants some space from Andrew’s group. Besides, it looks like some of the counselors are starting up conversations with people they don’t know, and it’s best to avoid that.

He watches while everyone finishes eating, observing the group to get a sense of who might be dangerous. Wymack arrives a few minutes into the gathering and toasts a marshmallow for himself, talking to his staff while doing so. By the time he’s finished his s’more, the sun has finished setting. The only light now comes from the stars, the fire, and the distant glow of the dining hall’s windows.

People start to settle onto picnic benches or find spots on the ground. Matt finds Neil and sits next to him, introducing him to Dan, Renee, and Allison – the three girls he hangs out with – as he does so. Dan sits next to Matt, her arm wrapped around his torso. Allison and Seth sit together as well, while Renee settles down in the grass at Dan’s feet. Neil sees Andrew’s group on the other side of the fire, the firelight making Andrew’s smile look ghastly.

Matt, unfortunately, notices where Neil’s looking. “Is he bothering you? Nicky didn’t really tell me what this afternoon was about.”

Neil shakes his head. “No, it’s fine.”

“Because if he is, talk to Betsy. She’s the only one who holds any sway over him.”

Neil glances at the assistant director, who’s giving one of the counselors a friendly smile and slipping her some leftover chocolate, and doubts it. But he says, “Alright.” He glances back at Andrew only to find Andrew looking directly at him. He gives Neil a mocking, two-fingered salute and then laughs. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure man. Anything you want.”

“Yesterday Andrew seemed pretty emotionless, and today he’s grinning all the time.”

“You mean he wasn’t smiling like that yesterday?” Matt asks, concerned.

“No. Why? What does that mean?”

“It means he was sober yesterday. That kid is not supposed to be sober.”

“Sober?”

“He’s on drugs. Mood enhancement drugs. He has a history of violence. He wouldn’t be allowed around kids if people knew he was going off his medication.”

Before Neil can respond, Wymack raises his voice to be heard over the different conversations of the staff and says, “Alright, everyone sit down and shut up.”

Conversation dies down and the few people still standing find seats. For a moment the only sound is the strangely soothing rhythm of chirping of crickets and crackling of the fire. Wymack perches on a rock next to the fire pit and surveys his staff.

“Welcome back, to those of you I know,” he says after a beat of silence. “To those who are new, welcome to the Foxhole. Those of you who have been here before know what you’re getting into. Those of you who haven’t probably think you do. You’re in for a rude awakening.

“We’re not a normal camp. You all know that. Some of you might be here because you see yourself as saints and you want to take care of kids who are less fortunate. Good for you. The world needs more people like you. But know that it won’t be easy. Whatever you expected, whatever you think you deserve, forget it. This summer will be harder – and better – than you ever imagined.

“Many of you have been foxes for years. You get these kids, and you get why they need to keep coming back. Why you need to keep coming back. To all of you guys – welcome home.

“I don’t know what bullshit you left behind when you came here this summer, but the moment you set foot on the campground it stopped mattering. You’re not there anymore. You’re here. And while you’re here, you have a chance to step away from your own problems and make things just a little bit better for a kid like you. It’s going to be tough, but if you guys have proved anything in your lives, it’s that you know how to handle tough.

“If things ever get to be too much for you, talk to Betsey. She’ll make sure you have what you need. If a kid’s giving you too much trouble, talk to me. And talk to each other as much as you can.

“The Foxhole is a second chance for kids who otherwise wouldn’t have any chances – to feel safe, to make friends, to find people they can genuinely trust. You all know how important that is. And I expect you to do everything in your damn power to make sure these kids get what they came here for. If you do, then you’ll probably get what you came here for, too.”

Wymack looks around at his staff again, letting the message sink in. After a minute he says, “Now get some sleep. With what you’re going to face this summer, you’ll need it.” 

Wymack stands, signifying that the meeting’s over. Slowly, chatter returns to the campsite. Counselors gradually get up and start making their way to the lodges they’re staying inn. Matt and his friends go over to Betsey and Abby to help them clean up the s’mores station. Neil hears Wymack shout, “Minyard, you take care of the fire,” which sounds like a dangerous decision to Neil.

“Yes, sir,” Andrew sarcastically replies. His voice is much too close to Neil for comfort. But before Neil has time to locate him, he feels a hand settle heavily across the back of his neck. “Neil. My friend. You didn’t have a s’more.”

“I find it hard to believe you actually care about that.”

Andrew’s right hand only presses harder on the back of Neil’s neck while his left pushes something sticky into his grasp. “Here. My last one, just for you.”

Neil looks with skepticism at the concoction in his hand. Marshmallow oozes out from between the graham crackers, streaked with half-melted chocolate. He glances up to see if he’ll hit anyone if he throws it into the fire.

Andrew laughs his drugged-up laughter. “I didn’t spike it. I would, but I don’t have anything on me I could use. Consider it a peace offering.”

“You have no interest in making peace.”

Andrew shakes his head disapprovingly. “So quick to judge.”

“I need to get back to the kitchen,” Neil says, shrugging out of Andrew’s hold.

“Aaron and Nicky are helping Kevin.”

“Oh? They’re not helping you capture me?”

“Nicky said you might be more cooperative tonight.” Andrew shrugs. “He’s stupid but sometimes trustworthy. You have two minutes to talk before I make it look like you accidentally tripped into the fire. Tick-tock.”

Neil glances toward the lodges, where the counselors are filing in for the night. There’s still enough people outside that they would see if Andrew tried anything violent, so Neil’s inclined to think it’s an empty threat. But he’s not sure if Andrew’s the type to make empty threats.

He takes a small bite of the s’more in his hand, ready to spit it out if anything tastes off. But it doesn’t. In fact, it might be the tastiest thing Neil’s had in years.

Andrew laughs again, jarring Neil out of his enjoyment. “See? It’s good. And I gave it to you out of the kindness of my tender heart.”

Neil hesitantly finishes the s’more, half expecting to get sick at any moment. Andrew watches as he does so, turned so that the darkness hides his expression. “Why’d you really give it to me?” Neil asks when he’s done.

“So I’d have my hands free if you tried to run.” He gestures toward the fire. “Shall we have a chat?”

Without waiting for Neil’s answer, he turns and picks up a marshmallow roasting stick. Two marshmallows are produced from a bag he’s tucked into his pocket. He sits down next to the fire and holds the marshmallows over the flame. Neil warily sits a few feet away from him.

_Art by lazyleezard.tumblr.com_

Neil glances at Andrew out of the corner of his eye. The flames make him look like some kind of demon, and that drug-induced smile doesn’t help. He’s not paying much attention to Neil now, but they’re next to a fire and Andrew’s holding something pointy. Not a great combination.

Neil sighs. Time to see if he can get this demon off his back. Staring into the fire, he forces himself to tell a story that he hopes will be convincing.

“I’m being chased by the mob,” Neil begins.

One of Andrew’s eyebrows raises. He doesn’t react otherwise, but Neil can tell he’s listening. He takes a breath and continues with the lie he’d concocted earlier that day.

“My father worked for a crime lord. He wasn’t important, just some middleman who delivered goods from one place to the other. But he got stupid. Started skimming some money from the payments. He got caught and executed. My mother took me and the money and ran. She’s dead-” His voice chokes a little on that word. Neil hopes it makes his story more believable. “-and I’m still running.”

Neil waits, heart pounding. It’s not the truth, but it’s still closer to the truth than anything he’s ever said out loud. He had spent the whole day considering his conversation with Nicky. The safest course of action would be to run, of course, but the Foxhole’s a good hiding spot if he can manage to make it safe for him. And making it safe means feeding Andrew a lie that will put his suspicions to rest. Neil only hopes that Andrew buys it.

Andrew checks the marshmallows, then lowers them back over the fire. The pop and crackle of burning wood fills the long, tense silence.

Eventually, Andrew asks in a dispassionate voice, “Are you going to bring mobsters to my camp?”

“If I thought I would, I wouldn’t be here.”

Andrew pulls one of the marshmallows off the stick and pops it in his mouth. “This was not the right place to hide,” he says once he’s swallowed it. “But now that you’re here, you’re not leaving. Understood?”

“Why not?”

“Replacing you would be too much of a pain.” He eats the other marshmallow and stands. “Get back to the kitchen.”

Neil stands as well, watching Andrew warily. He waits for him to say or do something more, but Neil might as well already be gone for all the attention Andrew’s giving him. He splashes the contents of a water bucket onto the fire without sparing a glance for Neil and continues to do so when Neil returns to the dining hall.

Aaron and Nicky are working the dishwasher while Kevin scrubs pots at the large sinks. Neil silently takes up a place next to Kevin. A few minutes later, Andrew comes in and, much to Neil’s surprise, helps put away clean dishes. The five of them work together in a cooperative silence that’s almost comfortable.

If Neil doesn’t think too hard about what he’s doing and who he’s doing it with, it almost feels as though he’s been accepted.


	3. Chapter 3

Neil’s been all over the world – he’s lived in multiple cities in several foreign countries and seen dozens and dozens of different cultures and neighborhoods.

But he’s never lived anywhere that even remotely resembles a summer camp.

It’s difficult to name exactly what’s so strange about it (besides the obvious parts, such as being secluded in the woods and forgoing a lot of modern conveniences). In a lot of ways, the staff of the Foxhole is more relaxed than any other group of people Neil’s ever met. They joke and laugh more easily, dress more casually, have half a dozen group-wide inside jokes by the end of the first day. There’s an undercurrent of happiness that sets Neil on edge simply because it’s unusual. Most people seem happy to just be there, and he’s not sure why.

And yet in other ways, there’s a certain amount of frantic energy in the staff. They seem to always be working on a million different tasks that need to be completed before the campers arrive. There are a dozen counselor training sessions held during that first week (which, thankfully, Neil doesn’t have to go to) as well as emergency procedure drills, safety and first aid training, and endless chores that need to be done before the camp’s ready to accept campers. But despite the frantic schedule, the staff still finds time for team bonding activities and ice cream outings. It feels as though every minute is scheduled, and it makes Neil’s head spin.

Neil’s minutes are no less scheduled than the rest of the staff’s during that first training week. While the counselors are learning about how to teach activities and bonding with each other, Neil’s helping prepare dinner or re-painting cabins or clearing undergrowth from hiking trails. He goes to bed each night exhausted. The worries that have been a constant presence in Neil’s life since he was eleven years old are no longer running through his mind as he falls asleep simply because he’s too tired to think. And during the day, he’s too busy to worry about anything but the task at hand.

Then the campers arrive, and staff training week seems calm by comparison.

The camp completely transforms once the camp session begins. It seems that there’s never a moment of total silence. Always, Neil can hear the sounds of campers having fun – the screams of kids tubing on the lake, or the shouts of a boy yelling down the hill at a friend, or the distant _thwack_ of an arrow hitting a target in the archery field. Land that seemed large and empty before is now crowded with kids. And campers mean more work for Neil – they mean spending twice as long cooking meals and three times as long cleaning dishes. And they mean that everything Neil fixes quickly gets broken again. It’s not long before he loses track of the number of leaky faucets and clogged toilets he’s had to rectify.

Neil had thought that if he wasn’t working directly with kids, he’d easily be able to avoid them. But it’s not long before Neil realizes that there’s no avoiding anyone in the closed community of a summer camp. He may not be anyone’s counselor, but all two hundred kids know his face. And as of dinner on the very first day of camp, every kid knows his name, too – because each staff member is required to introduce themselves in a camp-wide “intro skit.”

He watches the beginning of the intro skits from the edge of the dining hall and counts himself lucky that he didn’t end up being a counselor. Groups of counselors from each age division do a goofy skit or song to make themselves memorable before announcing their names to the kids. The support staff, thankfully, skips that. Still, Neil feels profoundly awkward as he stands beside Kevin and announces his name and role while two hundred campers stare at him. He’s never had that many people looking at him at once, and every instinct screams danger.

The attention doesn’t last long, fortunately. Aaron introduces himself next, then Abby and Betsy. And then everyone’s been introduced but one.

Wymack looks around, searching for someone. The kids shift in their seats, unsure what they’re waiting for, and conversation starts up. “There’s one more person for you all to meet,” Wymack says loudly before they can get too distracted.

And then a voice from above says, “Everyone knows who I am.”

And there is Andrew Minyard, sitting high up the rafters and grinning his manic grin.

Wymack puts his head in his hands. Kevin groans. Most of the counselors have some variant of shock or displeasure in their expressions. But the kids absolutely lose their shit. There are cheers. A couple standing ovations. A Fennec runs to the fireplace and tries to climb up it so he can join Andrew in the rafters, and Matt barely manages to catch his camper before he hurts himself.

Andrew swings down from the rafters and lands hard on Renee’s cabin’s table. Then he jumps to the ground and strolls out the door.

On his way out, he flashes Neil a grin and delivers the same two-fingered salute from before.

*****

That night, Andrew Minyard is the number one topic of conversation among the kitchen volunteers.

They’re a talkative bunch. Most of them have been coming to the Foxhole for years, and a lot of them already know each other. So they fall into conversation easily, and they’re soon shouting to each other over the splashing of the large sinks and the loud hum of “Sir Dish Wash McDisherson.” That’s how Neil learns a lot of fascinating gossip – some of which he’s already figured out (Dan’s dating Matt, Seth and Allison are on and off) and some of which he’s surprised by (Wymack likes Abby, Aaron has a crush on a new Kit counselor named Katelyn). But mostly, he learns about Andrew.

Andrew’s status is legendary, but no one seems to be able to agree on what he’s actually like. Some say he’s mean, some say he’s not. Some say the grin’s because he’s happy, others argue that it looks more deranged than anything. And the rumors about his personal background are wild – Andrew Minyard once knifed three people. He once murdered a person. No, he murdered _three_ people. He’s a sociopath. He’s a good guy who fights for those weaker than him. He’s an evil guy willing to hurt people to get what he wants. The armbands are so people can tell him apart from Aaron. The armbands are because he’s hiding gang tattoos he got in juvie. The armbands are filled with knives. 

From what he’s soon so far, Neil could believe any of it.

*****

Working maintenance means Neil sees everything and is part of nothing. He’s always out and about on the campground, so he sees the little interactions between campers and counselors that tell him everything he could want to know about what goes on at the camp despite not taking part in any of it. He sees how often Renee has one-on-one conversations with emotional teenage girls from her Red cabin, calming them down and helping them deal with whatever’s going on at home. And he sees how Nicky’s exuberant personality has the campers in his drama classes rolling on the ground with such laughter genuine laughter you’d never guess they came from unhappy homes. He sees Dan being surprisingly nurturing with her Kits, and Allison drawing genuine respect from her Swifts. And he sees how the kids generally seem to avoid Seth.

Who he doesn’t see as much as he expected to, is Andrew.

They generally don’t work together, instead splitting their work in half and spending the days apart. Neil’s fine with that arrangement; he still doesn’t know what to make of Andrew and is happy to avoid him. Some days Andrew ignores Neil; some days he communicates primarily in the form of biting comments or black humor. Neither form of communication really puts Neil at ease.

They receive their tasks in the form of maintenance request slips submitted to the camp office, which they divide up at the beginning of the day. One morning Neil’s going through the usual list of leaking faucets and hornets’ nests when he finds a request titled, “Broken board on whale watch (ropes).” It’s been submitted by Matt, and there’s no other information on it.

Neil glances up at Andrew, who’s slipping a couple clogged toilets into Neil’s stack. “Do you know what this means?”

Andrew takes the form and reads it. “Yes,” he says. And doesn’t say any more.

“Very funny,” Neil says when he realizes Andrew’s not going to elaborate. “I guess it’s your job, then.”

Andrew slams the form onto Neil’s pile. “Ropes course. Up in the woods, with all the wires tied between the trees. Matt teaches there.” He taps the paper as if to emphasize its spot in Neil’s pile. “Go see people trusting each other and wonder how they do it.”

Neil wants to ask Andrew what he means, but he’s already out the door.

*****

A few minutes later, Neil’s trudging into the woods, toolbox in hand. It’s a long walk to the ropes course, but it’s cool and almost pleasant under the trees. The normal sounds of the camp start to become more distant, overshadowed by the hum of insects and the chirping of birds. The now-familiar scents of the woods are almost comforting. Maybe when the summer ends he’ll spend some time hiding out in a campsite instead of his usual motels and fake IDs. He never thought he’d be the type to like nature, but it’s starting to win him over.

Matt’s standing in a clearing among the wires and platforms that make up the ropes course when Neil arrives, checking his clipboard for the day’s schedule. He beams when he sees Neil approaching.

“Hey! Here to fix my whale watch?”

“I guess. But I don’t know what it is.”

That just makes Matt smile more, for some reason. “I’ll show you,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder.

He leads Neil to a large wooden platform, about five feet by ten feet. One end sits on the ground, while the other hovers a couple feet above it. Neil easily sees the broken plank he’ll need to fix.

“It’s essentially a giant see-saw,” Matt explains. “The goal is for the kids to keep it balanced while they’re moving from one side to the other. I just need a few boards replaced to make it safe again.”

“What’s the point of it?” Neil asks.

“It’s a team building activity. The kids have to work together and communicate with each other to keep it balanced, so they learn about trust and cooperation,” Matt explains. “That’s what a ropes course is all about. All of the stuff you see here are different obstacles that the kids have to solve by working together.”

Neil considers the ropes course. There’s a net hanging over the ground, and crisscrossed wires that look like they might be for balancing on. Neil wouldn’t trust a single soul to keep him from falling off those things, and he doubts many of the troubled kids coming to the Foxhole would, either.

He has to go to a maintenance shed to get the wood that he’ll need for the job. When he returns to the ropes course, there’s a group of Fennecs gathered around a set of two wires tied to trees. The wires are arranged in a V-shape, meeting at one end and gradually widening until they’re about four feet apart. A camper stands on each of the wires, their hands on each other’s shoulders to keep from falling as the distance between them gradually grows.

Neil watches out of the corner of his eye as he works. The other campers in the group are spotting them while Matt calls out advice and encouragement. The kids all seem pretty enthusiastic, but Neil can’t fathom why anyone would voluntarily take on a challenge like that. If one kid puts too much or too little weight on their partner, they’ll both go falling.

Almost every Fennec volunteers to do the obstacle, though. Then the activity period changes, and a class of Reds shows up. Neil recognizes some of them as kitchen volunteers. Apparently, they recognize him too.

“It’s Neil!” one of the boys shouts. He’s a loud kid, always telling jokes or trading insults over the splash of the sinks. The kind that likes to call attention to himself, making friends with all his fellow campers and getting a rise of out teasing the counselors. And, disconcertingly, his name is Nate. Short for Nathaniel. “My homeboy Neil is out here!”

Neil gives the kid a noncommittal wave. He has no idea what he’s done to earn the title of “homeboy,” but campers can be like that. They’re prone to assuming friendship with any staff member who’s vaguely nice to them. Or, sometimes, they act like they’re best friends because they find it funny to make the staff members uncomfortable. With Nate, it’s impossible to tell which it is.

“Kevin let him out of the kitchen,” a girl jokes.

“And he’s not with his freaky partner,” another girl adds.

“Hey, Andrew’s chill,” Nate says, suddenly defensive. “He’s scary, but he’s chill.”

Neil would have loved to ask how someone could be both scary and chill, but at that moment Matt calls them over to begin the class. This group’s task seems even more bewildering than the first’s; they gather around a sheer wooden wall, about twelve feet high, and have to figure out how to get the entire group on top of it.

“Hey, Neil! Come do the wall with us,” Nate shouts. Neil shakes his head and goes back to work. No way is he putting his life in the hands of some uncoordinated teenagers.

He finishes with the whale watch just as the group’s finishing up with the wall. By the time he’s packed up his tools, Nate is the only camper left on the ground. Neil watches as he backs up, then takes a running leap at the wall.

His teammates catch him, and for a moment he’s entirely in their power as they pull him up and over. Neil feels a moment of worry as he dangles from his teammates’ hands. But in the next second he’s on top of the wall, cheering with the rest of the campers.

Neil picks up his tools and walks away.

*****

“Neil’s lame!”

Neil looks up at the call and sees Nate grinning back at him. It’s the same face he often gives to his cabinmates after delivering a joking insult. Neil gives him a flat stare to communicate that he’s not up for being messed with.

“Wouldn’t join us at the wall in ropes,” Nate continues, trying to prod him into a response.

Neil shrugs. “I had work to do,” he says, going back to mopping to kitchen floor. Nate stands between two friends at the large sinks. Suds go up the kid’s arms and his apron is covered in water, but his smile suggests that he’s having the time of his life, for some unfathomable reason.

“Sounds like Kevin,” says the boy to his left, and all three of them laugh.

“Kevin’s a good guy, though,” the boy on Nate’s right says once the laughter dies down. And then, unnecessarily, he adds, “He’s a fox.”

“Yeah, and I bet Neil would be good guy, too, if he would talk to us,” Nate says. He fixes Neil with a severe look that’s tempered by a barely-suppressed mischievous smile. He’s goading Neil, for some unfathomable reason. And Neil doesn’t actually have a good response. He’s too busy wondering why this kid is bothering to goad him in the first place.

Neil finds himself shrugging again. “What would we talk about?”

The boys laugh as though he’s said the most outrageous thing in the world. Neil rolls his eyes and goes back to mopping. He’ll never understand campers.

“You’re a fox, aren’t you, Neil?” Nate asks, making him look up again.

Neil stares at him, trying to figure out what he means. “Well, I do work here.”

The boy on the right shakes his head. “No, a _real_ fox,” he says.

Nate turns around and crosses his arms over his chest, his work totally forgotten. He stands on a low wood platform to better reach into the tall sink, and now he uses the added height to proclaim his wisdom to Neil as though he’s a preacher teaching his congregation.

“Foxes are people who belong here. Fuck ups, like these asshats.” He points to his friends and receives a splash of sudsy water in return. “And, of course, yours truly. Some counselors were campers here, so we know they’re foxes. But new counselors fall into two groups. Either they’re real foxes, or they’re saints.” He says the words “saints” while making air quotes. “Real foxes belong here. Saints are people who work here because they want to help poor unfortunate souls. Like, say, Katelyn. That new lifeguard Aaron’s always gawking at. She’s definitely a saint.”

The boy on the left snorts. “Aaron’s a fox, though, so good luck to him.”

“And how’d you know I was a fox?” Neil asks. If he’s giving away his background at all, he needs to know.

“Because saints look at foxes like problems to solve,” Nate says simply. “And you don’t.”

He turns away, resuming his work as though that’s all that needs to be said on that topic. A few minutes later, one of the camper volunteers turns on some pop music on the kitchen’s portable radio, effectively ending all conversation.

Neil’s never liked pop music. But the fast beats the upbeat melodies seem to lift the spirits of everyone in the kitchen, and even Neil finds himself humming along. The kids sing and dance while they work, taking a little longer than usual to do the dishes. But all the dishes do get done, and get done well, and even Kevin’s having a hard time being completely annoyed with them. Renee, who had been waiting in the dining hall for her campers finish their work, is having a small dance party with some of her girls. It’s happiness for the sake of happiness, the kind of spontaneous fun that is commonplace at a summer camp. These kid’s lives may suck back home, but you would never know it to look at them.

Neil finishes mopping and steps out a back door to empty the dirty water. There’s a small porch used for storing trash and recycling, and Neil tilts the bucket over the side of it, letting the water form a deep puddle in the grass. The sun’s setting, casting the campground in a dim blueish haze and sparkling pink over the lake. It’s not like Neil to stop and admire a view, but he can’t seem to help himself. He takes a deep breath and suddenly feels more at peace than he has in . . . well, Neil doesn’t remember how long.

He takes one last look at the sun setting over the campground, and that’s when Neil sees three figures standing at the edge of the woods. One is Andrew. The other two are campers – Nate, and another kitchen volunteer named Robin.

Neil hasn’t seen Andrew talk to campers the whole time he’s been here. He watches, trying to read their body language, but Andrew doesn’t seem to have any. He listens with his arms crossed as the two kids explain something to him.

The conversation doesn’t last long. The campers leave a moment later, heading back into the dining hall via the front door. Andrew turns when they’re gone and levels his gaze on Neil, as though to let Neil know that he sees him. A second later, he’s walking away.

*****

“You should come on my cabin’s cookout next week.”

Neil looks up from the picnic table he’s re-painting. Matt’s standing right in front of the sun, and he’s so unreasonably tall that Neil has to crane his head up to look at him. The resulting effect makes Neil feel as though he’s looking up at some haloed angel. “Why?”

“It’s good to have another staff member around during a cookout, especially with younger kids. You have to watch the kids, watch the fire, and prepare their food. It’s a lot to keep your eye on.”

“I don’t know anything about watching a fire. Or watching kids,” Neil says. As he speaks, he notices Andrew a few yards away, standing on the dining hall porch. He’s talking to two Reds – and one of them is Nate.

“That’s fine. You just need to be an extra body to help make sure the kids aren’t getting into anything dangerous,” Matt says. “And you could help prepare the food. You’ve had plenty of practice with that.”

That definitely true. Neil’s cooked more in the past couple weeks than he has in his entire life. He turns back to Matt, though he keeps Andrew’s conversation in the corner of his eye. “I’ll see if I have any other work that night,” he says, because he really doesn’t see the appeal of hanging out with a bunch of Fennecs for a few hours and likes Matt well enough to not want to tell him that bluntly.

“You won’t. The whole camp will be having a cookout that night, so you’ll have nothing to cook and no dishes to wash. Hey.” The sudden seriousness in Matt’s voice makes Neil turn wholly away from Andrew. “We see you as a fox, alright? You don’t have to hang around on the outside all the time. You can join in on things, get to know the kids a little. We want you to do that.”

It’s a nice thought, and Matt will never be able to understand the real reason why Neil has to hang around on the outside. So he just nods and says, “Alright.”

The look on Matt’s face suggests that he heard the noncommittal nature of that response, but he doesn’t press it. A minute later he has to return to the ropes course for the next activity period, and Neil turns back to his work. Andrew separates from the campers, passing Neil as he goes.

“Hey,” Neil says as Andrew’s walking by. “What were you talking to them about?”

Instead of answering, Andrew laughs. “Oh, Neil. Afraid the monster will hurt them?”

“No.”

“Oh? Just a passing curiosity, then?”

Neil rolls his eyes. “Never mind.”

“They come to me with their problems,” Andrew says. Then, on seeing Neil’s skeptical expression, he laughs again. “Don’t believe me?”

“You’re not exactly the nurturing type,” Neil says. 

“And neither are you. Yet we both ended up working with kids. Strange how that happened.”

“I’m not working with kids.”

“Yet,” Andrew says, his manic grin growing wider.

*****

That night, Neil’s just about to settle in for sleep when someone pounds on the door to his small bedroom in the lodge. He opens it to find Wymack standing there with his arms crossed.

“We need to have a talk,” Wymack says. “Come on.”

“Something wrong?” Neil asks.

“Very,” Wymack replies. “I’ll explain in the office.”

Wymack’s already heading down the stairs, and Neil hurries after him. As he passes, he sees Andrew watching from the doorway of his own room.

Betsey’s already in the office when Neil gets there, talking to someone on the phone. Wymack gestures for Neil to take a seat while he settles himself behind the desk.

“Yes, he needs to be picked up as soon as possible,” Betsy’s saying. “No, I don’t think he could drive himself home. Of course. I understand. He’s at Columbia State Hospital. Yes. Thank you.” She hangs up and gives Wymack a grim look, saying, “We finally got in touch with his family. Someone should be able to get him tomorrow.”

“What’s going on?” Neil asks.

“Seth,” Wymack says simply. “He brought drugs to camp. Told me he was clean, and I believed to him like an idiot. Tonight he had a bad reaction right after dinner and had to be carted to the hospital.” Wymack takes a dep breath and grimaces. For a second he looks indescribably tired. “And now we’re down a counselor. So. How’d you like to have your own cabin?”

“My own cabin?”

“Someone needs to replace Seth,” Wymack says. “Tonight. When the new session starts in a couple days, we’ll rearrange all the campers so we can use the staff we already have. But right now handing off all those kids to new cabins would just be too chaotic. So we need you to step in.”

Fear swells up in Neil’s gut, though it’s a different type fear than what he’s used to. It’s not fear for his life. It’s subtler than that - but no less crippling. “You want _me_ to be a counselor?” he asks.

“Glad you’re finally getting it,” Wymack says.

“I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can.”

“It’s less than ideal,” Betsy adds, “but it really is the only choice we have right now. It’s just for two days.”

“I don’t know anything about being a counselor,” Neil says.

“Make sure they’re safe and not being assholes to each other,” Wymack says. “There’s a lot more to it than that, but that’ll be enough to get you through the next couple days.”

Neil shakes his head again. He may have come to the Foxhole applying to be a counselor, but that was before he met any campers. Before he had seen how chaotic and unpredictable they were. Seth’s cabin was a cabin of Reds – old enough to take care of themselves, but not too old to cause their own problems. Neil has seen plenty of Reds while working with the kitchen volunteers. They’re nosy, dramatic, and think they’re above the rules. And Neil’s seen how many of them have needed to go to Renee in tears about whatever fucked up part of their life has led them to the Foxhole. There’s no way Neil can deal with kids like that. He doesn’t have a nurturing bone in his body.

“I’m not the right person to do this,” he says to Wymack.

“I know,” Wymack says gruffly. “But you’re the only person. You’re the only member of support staff that we can spare for a couple days.”

“We need you,” Betsey says. “And those kids need you.”

“Either you do this, or those kids have to leave camp,” Wymack says. “I know some of the boys in that cabin. For some of them, this camp is the only real home they have. So you are free to make your choice, but I’m asking you to think carefully about what choice you’re making.”

*****

If the Red cabin that Neil walks into that night is what counts as a “home” to some of these boys, then it’s a pretty sorry excuse for one. The building’s little more than a wood frame, with a door that creaks on his way in and screens in the place of real windows. There’s hardly any furniture besides bunk beds, and graffiti coats the walls.

Ten boys stare at Neil when he enters. Neil recognizes half of them from the kitchen. The other half are strangers. There’s a moment of calculating silence before one of the strangers speaks.

“So. You’re the replacement,” he says. His voice is dripping with teenage disdain.

“Yup,” Neil says, feeling even more like an imposter than usual. “I guess I’m the new counselor.”


	4. Chapter 4

The boys ignore Neil, for the most part. And he ignores them in turn, though he’ll occasionally take the time to yell at them when their teasing of each other borders on cruel, or when they do reckless shit like dare each other to shimmy up the flagpole. “Make sure they’re safe and not being assholes to each other,” Wymack had said. Neil’s doing exactly what he’s been asked and nothing more.  

Neil observes the kids during breakfast the first morning in “his” cabin, assessing them with the careful attention to detail his mother taught him to use when meeting new people - that is, assessing them in terms of threats and vulnerabilities. Neil takes note of their body language and attitudes to figure out which boys are the likeliest to give him a hard time.

The group is divided into three easily identifiable cliques. There’s a clear “in group,” boys with affected tough guy attitudes who look down on the other kids and mock them - and each other - mercilessly. And there’s a clear “out group,” the awkward boys who stop talking when they’re interrupted and avoid making eye contact unless they have to. Those who fit into neither category (including Nate) make up the third clique, and there’s obvious animosity between all three.

For most of the day, the kids are in activities and Neil can do his normal work. But he does have to sleep in the cabin, eat every meal with the kids, and supervise “cabin time” - an hour set aside for cabin groups to hang out together. Neil arrives at his first cabin time and finds the campers already amusing themselves. The in group is playing poker on the cabin floor, the out group have all retreated to solitary activities on their bunks, and the third group is hanging out on the cabin porch. Neil’s pretty sure that cabin time is supposed to be a group activity, but he’s not going to waste his time trying to force these kids to bond. So he sits on his bunk and watches all three groups out of the corner of his eye to make sure no one’s doing anything they’re not supposed to.

Through the window, Neil sees Nate descending the porch steps and stopping to talk with Robin, who’s snuck away from her own cabin. The other boy that had been talking to Andrew the day before goes with him. Neil watches the three campers confer in low voices. After a minute, he gets up to follow them.          

All three of them start when Neil approaches, and the other boy says, “What do you want?” in a challenging tone.

“I saw you talking to Andrew yesterday,” Neil begins. And before he can continue, the boy cuts him off.

“We didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. I swear.”

“We had no idea what Andrew would do,” Robin adds.

“Yeah, seriously. We didn’t mean anything by it,” Nate says. “You gotta understand, things were miserable in the cabin. And, I mean, Seth is ok, right? So, no harm done?”

Neil examines the faces of each kid. He considers making them explain, but he thinks he can already guess what’s going on.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he says. “It’s not my problem.”

“Thanks man,” Nate says. “I always knew you were chill.”

“It’s not because I’m chill,” Neil says. “It’s because what’s done is done.” He heads back to the cabin before Nate can say anything more.

The scene in he returns to is completely different than the one he left. The playing cards are scattered across the wood floor, forgotten, and the disdainful camper from the previous night – Neil’s learned that his name is Jack – has the shyest member of the out group pushed up against the wall. Other members of the in group are laughing and cheering Jack on while the rest of the out group cowers on their bunks. There’s already a black eye forming on the victim.

“What the fuck is going on?” Neil spits.

The cabin freezes. He’s dimly aware of the boys on the porch peering through the door and the screen windows, watching the drama unfold. There’s a moment of tense silence before Jack drops his victim, smirks at Neil and says in a sing-song voice, “Uh-oh, counselor’s here. What’s he gonna do?”

He takes a step forward, maybe hoping to use his height tower over Neil and taunt him. But before that can happen, Neil grabs the bully by the wrist and hauls him away from his victim. It takes less than a second for the boy’s bravado to disappear. Suddenly his mouth is hanging open, and he’s shouting, “You can’t do this! Stop! You’re not allowed to grab campers!”

“Yeah, well, I’m doing it anyway.” Neil gets Jack sufficiently far away from his target and then releases him with a shove. “Now I’ll ask again. What the fuck is going on?”

“You’re not allowed to swear either.”

Neil steps forward.

“Ok, ok!” he says. “I was just, you know. Goofing around. Roughhousing. Right?”

Jack directs his last question to his victim, who flatly says, “No.”

“This happens lot,” Nate calls from outside the window. Jack glares at him.

“Really?” Neil asks, crossing his arms.

“No,” Jack says at the same time that a couple of other kids say, “Yeah.”

Counselors, Neil’s pretty sure, are supposed to be patient and nurturing even when the kids are pieces of shit. But he’s not a real counselor, and this kid is old enough to be responsible for his own actions. And with the way Neil’s anger is starting to burn, patience is completely out of the question.

“You think hurting people makes you tough or something?” Neil says derisively. “I’ve met plenty of people like you – there’s nothing tough about you. You’re a fox, so I guess you have a really emotional sob story about how your tragic past makes you act this way. But everyone in this cabin has a sob story. And I couldn’t give two shits what yours is.”

Jack’s recovered from his initial shock and is trying to save his pride by forcing an unaffected, surly glare. It’s not working, but the arrogance in that expression makes Neil sick. This is the kind of person who ends up working for his father. Who ends up _becoming_ his father.  

“And I guess you think _you’re_ some kind of tough guy,” Jack spits.

“Compared to you? Definitely.”

Jack rolls his eyes, and Neil realizes what he has to do to keep peace in his cabin. It would probably get him fired, but in his angry state it seems worth it. “You think you’re tough? Then go ahead and hit me,” he says.

Jack stares, waiting for some kind of catch.

“You heard me. Hit me. You’re so strong when you’re picking on someone who doesn’t know how to defend themselves. If you were really strong, you could-”

Neil’s so busy goading Jack on that he almost misses it when he finally snaps. He blocks Jack’s punch just in time and then locks Jack in a hold his mother taught him, with his arm twisted sharply behind him back. In seconds, Jack’s immobilized.

“Don’t mess with anyone in this cabin ever again,” he says. “Do you understand?” Jack nods, and Neil lets him go. “And everyone who was cheering him on, I know exactly who you are. I hope you get the message, too.”

Neil walks out of the cabin. He doesn’t know how to follow that little display, and he doesn’t think spending another minute around Jack will be good for either of them. As he passes the rest of his campers, Neil can’t help but notice shocked stares and agape mouths. He wonders what kind of rumors are going to fly around the camp, and if his temper has gotten him permanently fired from the Foxhole.

Slowly, whispered conversation starts up as he leaves. Neil hears murmurs of “Holy shit,” “Damn,” and, for some reason, “Andrew was right.”

Nate hurries after Neil and stops him at the base of the porch steps. “Hey, man,” he says. “Thank. Thanks a lot.” Then he jogs back up to the steps and returns to his friends before Neil can respond.

The third group - the clique that’s neither the bullies nor the outcasts - send Neil approving nods when they notice him glancing back at the cabin after Nate. Kids keep peeking at Neil through the screen windows - some frightened, some just intrigued. The rumble of conversation coming from the cabin is quiet and uncertain, but it’s better than the violence from earlier.

Well, Neil doesn’t have a nurturing bone in his body, but he’s learned from his mom how to protect. Regardless of what the kids think of him, at least now he knows that they’re are going to be safe.

It’s a surprisingly gratifying thought.

*****

For an hour or so after the kids go to bed, the counselors can leave their cabins and have some time to themselves. Neil makes sure the kids are all in bed and tells Allison, who’s tasked with staying behind and watching the empty cabins that night, to make sure Jack doesn’t start anything while he’s gone. He doesn’t know Allison very well, but he knows enough to be sure she can put Jack in his place.

Neil goes to the staff lounge first, but he’s unsurprised when the person he’s looking for isn’t there. He’s not in the lodge or the dining hall, either. That leaves one other likely option.  

Neil feels his steps slowing as he approaches the Eden’s Twilight campsite, memories of the last time he was there making him uneasy. But that time has passed. He’s a fox now, apparently tolerated by the monsters. He shouldn’t have anything else to fear from them.  

“Neil!” Nicky exclaims when he arrives. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Kevin looks up from where he sits next to Aaron on top of the picnic table, feet on the bench. “Being out late isn’t an excuse to not be in the kitchen on time tomorrow morning,” he says.

Neil nods toward the bottle near Kevin’s hand. “But it is an excuse to be in the kitchen hungover, apparently.”

“I won’t get hungover,” Kevin says defensively.

“The amount he drinks, he’s developed a liver of steel,” Nicky assures him.

Andrew hasn’t said a word yet. Neil finds him on the far side of the fire, sitting on a log with a cigarette in his hand. “I need to talk to you,” he says.

“Need’s a strong word,” Andrew says. His drugs have worn off for the night, and his smile has disappeared. In its place is a the blank expression from when Neil first met him.

“It’s a strong need.”

“Talk to me tomorrow.” He turns his head toward the lake and shoos Neil away with a wave of his hand.

“What’d you do to Seth?”

As one, the group turns to Andrew. The firelight shows a mix of emotions – shock on Nicky, annoyance on Kevin, anger on Aaron. So they didn’t know Andrew was involved in Seth’s overdose.

“He should have known not to bring drugs to camp,” Andrew says simply.

“Andrew, what’d you do?” Nicky asks.

“What needed to be done,” Andrew replies, standing. “Since Neil here insists on ruining my evening, I’ll have to leave you all to enjoy the fire without me. Come on.” He puts a hand on the back of Neil’s shoulder and turns him, pushing him down the path.

Andrew takes the lead as soon as they’re out of view of Eden’s Twilight. He walks deeper into the woods, taking out a flashlight when the firelight no longer lights their way. Neil follows warily, half expecting Andrew to knife him when they’re sufficiently far enough away from everyone else.  

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“Scared?”

“Well maybe it makes me a coward, but I’ve generally been taught that following a violent criminal deep into the woods is stupid.”

“And yet you’re still doing it. What does that make you?”

“Annoyed, mostly.”

Andrew suddenly turns off the path and pushes through the undergrowth until he reaches a boulder. Neil watches him clamber up to the top. Once he’s settled, and Neil’s made a mental note of where all the handholds are, he follows.

Immediately beyond the boulder, the land drops off. A steep, rocky slope rises out of the dark woods below. Neil can see the glassy surface of the lake beyond a cluster of trees. The tops of the leaves and the ripples in the water are just barely illuminated by the stars above them - stars that are bigger, brighter, and more numerous than Neil has ever seen them before.

Andrew takes a new cigarette out of a pack in his pocket, lights it, and offers one to Neil. Neil takes it and holds it over Andrew’s lighter, then inhales the scent without taking a drag.

In the night, the woods seem to be alive with noise. Neil can hear crickets chirping rapidly while frogs croak from the lake, and the occasional hoot of an owl underscores it all. He can see the Eden’s Twilight fire down the slope and to the left, and once he hears Nicky’s raised voice floating over the night noises. But other than that, there’s little hint of human encroachment in these woods. Neil’s never felt more isolated from the world. He’s never felt farther away from his father.

“Wasn’t aware smoking was allowed here,” Neil says after a beat of silence.

“And you care so much about the rules.”

“Why do you work here?”

The question comes to Neil abruptly, but the answer suddenly seems important. Andrew’s everything this camp isn’t. He’s harsh and impatient when most counselors - like Matt or Renee - try to be tolerant and compassionate. He drinks and smokes and solves problems in ways that should be getting him fired. Andrew Minyard as out of place at a summer camp as Neil is.

Andrew blows smoke into the clear night. He hasn’t looked at Neil since he sat down, and his simple answer to Neil’s question is, “For money.”

“If you really wanted money, you’d work somewhere that paid better.”

“And why do you work here?”

“I’ve told you why.”

“If you really wanted to run, you’d have kept running after your first night.”

Neil flicks ash off the end of his cigarette, watches it fall down to the trees below. Resigned to the fact that he’s not going to get anything out of Andrew, he switches his focus. “You made Seth overdose.”

“It was too easy. Abby doesn’t keep a close enough watch on the infirmary meds, and some of those pills look a lot like the ones Seth was popping.”

“Why?”

“He was a shitty counselor.”

“I didn’t realize you cared about the kids so much.”

“I don’t.”

“Bullshit.” Andrew finally faces him. His expression is blank, but his posture, as usual, is tense. Neil wonders how often he hears someone call him out like that. “You drugged me and threatened me at knifepoint to make sure I wouldn’t be a threat to the kids. Now you drive someone to overdose because he was a shitty counselor. I don’t know if you’re just dedicated to keeping up your tough guy demeanor or if you’re really fooling yourself, but you obviously care about them.”

“I don’t care about anything,” Andrew says. “I just made a promise.”

“To who?”

“To Betsy.”

“To what, drug the shitty counselors?”  

“To keep the campers safe.”

“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have made that promise.”

“I don’t have time for your amateur psychoanalysis. Believe what you want to believe.”

“What’d those kids from my cabin come to you about?”

“The kids at this camp know to come to me when they need something they can’t get through the authorities.” Andrew looks back out over the lake and takes a long drag of his cigarette before continuing. “Seth has always been a worthless person. He just got more worthless this summer. Couldn’t get off the drugs long enough to pay attention to his campers. Yelled at kids when they pissed him off. Didn’t manage to stop his kids from beating each other up. I’m sure that’s over now.”

Neil remembers what one of his campers said that afternoon. _Andrew was right._ “How’d you know I’d end that?”

“Oh, Neil. You don’t even know who you are. Then again, who does? Who is Neil Josten? What’s your real name?” Andrew does a theatrical shrug, barely visible in the moonlight. “I don’t know those things, but I know that you don’t put up with bullshit.”

“You barely know me.”

Andrew glances up at Neil and holds his gaze for a moment, examining him. So Neil examines Andrew in turn. His hair seems silvery in the moonlight and his pale skin is highlighted at the bridge of his nose and the curve of his jaw, and Neil suddenly feels as though he’s looking at Andrew Minyard for the first time. As though here, in the middle of the woods and with his drugged-up smile gone, Andrew is something more than Neil had realized. The starlight paints him in the same monochrome tones as the woods around him, making him seem as though he belongs to the landscape. And Neil gets the feeling that his ability to understand this camp and the man in front of him are intertwined – and that an understanding of both is just barely out of reach.

The moment stretches for an unmeasurable amount of time, encased in the noises of the night creatures and the bright starlight. Nothing feels quite real, and Neil can almost imagine that his life of hiding and fear was a dream, and that the true reality is limited to Andrew, the woods, and the stars.

Then Andrew says, “And I don’t want to,” and the moment is broken. He climbs back down the boulder, and Neil hurries after him. They return to the main campground in silence, their conversation over.

*****

With that first rough afternoon behind him, the end of the week goes surprisingly smoothly in Neil’s cabin. The boys who had been bullies don’t try anything else. The boys who hadn’t seem to warm up to Neil a lot faster than he’d have expected (led by Nate’s enthusiastic example). It’s not long before half the boys are trying to sit next to Neil at meals and saying hi to him when they pass each other between activity periods. Between them, the rest of the kitchen volunteers, and counselors like Matt who are trying to be his friends, Neil’s never had so many people being nice to him at once.

The week ends faster than Neil expected, and it seems like no time at all passes before the session ends and the kid’s guardians are showing up at camp to take them home. It’s strange, after spending so long surrounded by just camp people, to see so many normal adults arriving. It makes Neil nervous, and his paranoia rises to what he knows are irrational levels. It’s been a while since he’s had to look at every person as a potential threat.

But his paranoia is validated when Nate says his name in a quiet, shaky voice. He doesn’t sound like the camper Neil knows; fear has stripped away all his bravado and humor as he says, “Neil. That man is here for me.”

Neil follows his gaze. It isn’t hard to pick out the man in question from the crowd. He looks normal enough – his polo shirt and shorts help him blend in, and no one’s going to think twice about a man wearing sunglasses on a sunny day. But Neil knows the walk and the bearing of a professional criminal. With instincts honed by years on the run, Neil can immediately tell that the man is dangerous.

He quickly turns back to Nate. Luckily, all his other campers have already left. “I won’t let him,” he says. Nate’s gaze flick back and forth between the mobster and Neil, doubt in his eyes. Neil can’t blame him. “I promise,” he says.

Nate steps back a little as the man approaches and gives Neil what’s clearly intended to be a disarming smile. “Hey there. You must be Nate’s counselor. I’m here to pick him up.”

“He’s not going with you,” Neil says

The man scowls for a brief second before remembering himself and putting his smile back in place. “I’m his father. My name’s on his release form.”

“I didn’t see it.”

“Ah, well. I am his father. See?” He pulls out a wallet and holds up an ID to display his name. Neil’s seen enough fake IDs in his life to know not to trust them. And he’s seen enough of fathers to know not to trust them, either.

“He’s not going with you,” Neil repeats. A voice in the back of his head says that he should be afraid, on guard for his own safety. But he doesn’t feel any fear, for once. All he feels is anger at the man who would hurt this kid.

“And why’s that?” the man asks.

“He doesn’t want to.”

The man takes a step closer and draws up to his full, considerable height. Out of the corner of his eye, Neil can see Nate taking another frightened step back. Neil holds his ground. “Why doesn’t the kid speak for himself?” he says. “Nate, do you want to come with me?”

When Neil glances at Nate, he sees nothing but pure terror. “You don’t have to say anything,” Neil says. “You’ve already told me what you want.”

“Are you sure that was a good idea?” The man says to Nate. “My boss in Baltimore really wanted to see you.”

Neil’s heart stops. He thinks the man says something else, but he can only hear roaring in his ears. His vision grows blurry, and every inch of his body screams at him to run. It’s all he can do to remain in place, with his feet on the ground, and keep himself from trembling.

Someone puts their hand on Neil’s shoulder. Neil jumps at the touch. Then Wymack’s stepping up in front of him, demanding that the man leave before he calls the police. Betsy and Abby usher Nate to the office and beckon for Neil to follow. Neil’s heart is still pounding long after the mobster leaves and a police detail shows up at the campground to keep him away.

Nate’s foster mother arrives minutes later. She runs to him and embraces him, and Neil knows that she’ll keep Nate safe. Just like his own mother used to keep him safe. There’s no one to keep him safe now, though. Neil stays in Wymack’s office long enough to make sure Nate will be alright. Then, when everyone’s attention is turned away from him, he runs.

He can hear Wymack calling after him, but it doesn’t matter. The woods are just a few yards away. Neil will disappear into them and keep going until he’s left the camp behind. He can use the lake to direct him. His things are still in the lodge, but it’ll be crowded at this time of day. No choice but to just leave them.

Leave everything - the kids, the camp, and Neil Josten himself - behind.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the 2nd piece of big bang art shows up in this chapter :)

Neil hurtles through the woods, putting more distance between himself and anyone who might follow him with each rapid step. The ground blurs beneath his feet, and the trees seem to close off the way behind him, their branches leaning across the path and obscuring the camp within seconds. Neil runs as though his life depends on it, as though his father is right on his heels.

And then, abruptly, Neil stops running.

Not by choice. Something hard hits him across the abdomen and throws him to the ground. Neil collapses, gasping for painful breaths as, above him, a familiar voice says, “Stay.”

Neil cranes his head up. Andrew stands over him, holding a large tree branch. He drops it across the path, crosses his arms, and waits for Neil to get enough breath get up.

After a few seconds, Neil manages to wheeze in enough air to speak. “Fuck are you doing here?”

“Wymack said you ran. I found you.”

“Why?”  

“We need a second maintenance man.”

Neil takes a long, gasping breath to refill his lungs and says, “I need to go.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. That man.” Neil pushes himself to his feet and finds himself instinctively glancing around, as though he expects one of his father’s people to jump out of the bushes. “I think he works for my father - my father’s boss.”

“But he didn’t recognize you.”

“But if he could come here, then so could someone else that would.”

“Seems unlikely. Almost as unlikely as you lasting two days in the woods alone.”

“I can survive.”

“Maybe. You seem like the type who’s into self-preservation at all costs. What’s so worth preserving, I can’t figure out.”

_Art by lolrynesarting.tumblr.com_

Neil steps to the side to push past Andrew, but Andrew moves more quickly than he expected. He holds his arm across Neil’s chest and grabs him by his far shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “I told you the promise I made. It doesn’t serve my purposes to have mobsters on my campground, so that promise covers you as well.”

“What, you’re saying you’d protect me? Like you did those kids? Sorry, but this isn’t some twenty-year-old idiot doing drugs. This is a mob. This is a group with power and money and they will never stop hunting for me.”

“So you’ll just run.”

“I have to run.”

“And you run and you run until eventually they catch up with you. Or maybe not. Maybe you’ll keep running and running forever. Like the bunny from the battery commercials, always running, until you finally run yourself to death.” Andrew makes a show of considering this scenario, and then drops his hand from Neil’s shoulder with a shrug. “If that’s what you want.”

“And what would you suggest?”

“I already told you,” Andrew says. “Stay.”

“I can only stay so long. Summer ends.”

“Then stay until the end of summer.”

“And then what?”

“We’ll see.”

Neil steps back. He runs a hand across his face, thinking. Though his heart is still racing with panic, he’s starting to see reason. He doesn’t have any supplies with him, and there’s no one he can trust besides his mother’s contacts, who will be hard to track down without his binder. If he were to run now and get caught, he’d have no recourse. Here, at least he has some people who would probably want to help him. Whatever that may end up looking like.

And more than that, he _wants_ to stay. He wants to remain at the Foxhole. He wants to sleep every night in the bedroom in the lodge that has begun to feel like his own, and to spend every day around coworkers that he’s begun to feel like he knows. Neil’s grown accustomed to Kevin’s tightly run kitchen, as irritating as he is. He’s gotten used to Matt’s attempts to befriend him, and the playfulness of the kitchen volunteers. And he’s even gotten used to Andrew - disquieting, unsolvable Andrew. Perhaps Neil’s giving him more trust than he deserves as the only person who – somewhat – knows his secret. But Neil would regret no longer seeing Andrew.

It’s stupid and it’s dangerous, this longing to stay. He’s building emotional connections, and he’s known all his life that emotional connections can get you killed.

“Why do you want me to stay?” he asks Andrew.

“So I can pass all the shitty jobs off to you.”

“The real reason.”

Andrew shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe I find you amusing.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to amuse you.”

“It confuses me, too.”

“Do you ever give a straight answer?”

“I’m not exactly a straight guy.”

Neil sighs and shakes his head in frustration. “Why do you like this camp so much?”

“I don’t like or dislike anything.”

“Yeah and you don’t care about anything either, apparently. Except wanting me to stay. Need someone on hand in case you want to try to kill another counselor?”

“You are convenient.”

“Why do you work here?”

“Why are you so desperate to know?”

“It just seems unusual. Someone like you willingly putting yourself in a position to work with kids.”

“I’ll tell you if you stay,” Andrew says, grinning.

Neil rolls his eyes. He glances over Andrew’s shoulder and at the path beyond him, leading deeper into the wilderness. He should go, whether he wants to or not, and maybe he could make it if he dodged fast enough around Andrew, or even if he tried to push Andrew aside when he wasn’t expecting it . . .

But then Neil’s eyes drop to Andrew’s, and his last remaining desire to run dissipates. Self-preservation at all costs is the law that his mother had taught him so fervently over the years. But Andrew must be getting under his skin, because Neil’s finding himself wondering what’s so important to preserve with his current life. Staying in one place too long may eventually lead to his death, but at least he could enjoy a bit of his life before that happens.

“Fine,” Neil says with a sigh. “I’m staying, for now at least. Not because of anything you’ve said, but because I’m starting to realize how stupid it would be to leave right now.”

“Sure, sure.” Andrew pats Neil on the shoulder and then uses that shoulder to turn him around. “Looks like the bunny has stopped running. Glad you’re deciding to be a fox instead.”

*****

Neil approaches the dining hall before dinner the next day and is greeted by the sound of chaos.

A horde of rapid footsteps pound on the wood floor while people shout and, occasionally, shriek. Neil’s heartbeat speeds up, and he opens the door to the dining hall slowly, instinctually getting ready to fight or run.

Then he stops in his tracks, thoroughly confused.

All of the kitchen volunteers are running en masse from one corner of the dining hall to another. Half of them hold brooms in the air. Most of them are screaming unintelligibly. Kevin stands in the middle of the dining hall, on top of a table, and frantically tries to direct them. The moment Neil enters, Kevin shouts, “Neil’s over there!” and points in the opposite direction from where Neil’s standing.

“I’m right here,” Neil says.

One boy, who’s wielding a push broom and an expression of intense focus, calls, “We named the chipmunk Neil!”

“Chipmunk?”

“We found a chipmunk in the storeroom,” Kevin says. “And we need to catch it so it doesn’t get in the food.” And then, to the campers, “Left! No, now right. Split up! You’re not going to catch it if you keep running in a mob!”

Neil stands up on another table and watches the progress of the chase. Kevin’s growing noticeably more frustrated with each passing second, and the kids aren’t growing any more effective. And Neil can’t help but find himself laughing at the whole situation.

He develops an unspoken agreement with Kevin to watch the right side of the dining hall while he watches the left, and together they tag team directing the kids when the chipmunk makes an appearance. But chipmunk Neil easily outruns his captors, dodging whacking brooms and disappearing into the walls only to reemerge where he’s least expected. Catching him is simply out of the question. But after a great deal of effort, teamwork, and dumb luck, they manage to herd him out the door. By that point, Chipmunk Neil is more than willing to scurry away from the attackers with brooms and seek freedom somewhere else on the campground.

The triumphant cheers from the kitchen volunteers as Chipmunk Neil runs off into the sunset are disproportionately loud, as though they’ve won a world championship rather than successfully herded a chipmunk. That’s something Neil’s noticed about campers – they tend to enjoy their triumphs more than kids would in any other setting. They cheer louder and brag longer and congratulate each other more easily. And Neil finds himself smiling, caught up in the joy.

It takes a while for Kevin to bring order back to the group, but he eventually gets them to calm down and set tables. Neil follows him into the kitchen to make sure dinner’s ready and help plating the food. When he hands a full plate to Robin, he asks her, “Why’d you guys name the chipmunk after me?”

“Oh. It wasn’t my idea,” Robin says with a shy smile. “But, well . . . it’s small, shy, and runs really fast. So we thought it kind of fit.”

“Oh.” Neil’s not sure whether to feel offended or amused. Logically he thinks it should be the former, but for some reason, the latter wins out.  

“Hey, you’re not here to chat,” Kevin calls to Neil from behind him.

A few weeks ago, that would have pissed Neil off. But now Neil’s starting to get it. Kevin means well. He just cares a lot about this camp, and this kitchen, almost irrationally so. He’s noticing that level of dedication a lot among the people who work here.

“Hey, Kevin,” he says as he scoops pasta into serving bowls. “Why do you care about this camp so much?”

Kevin’s actually surprised into stopping his work for a moment to consider Neil’s question. But then he sees some kitchen volunteers doing something that needs to be corrected, and after that it’s time to ring the bell that signals to the campers that dinner’s ready. By the time Kevin comes back to give Neil his answer, Neil’s almost forgotten that he asked the question.

“It took me in when I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Kevin says as he returns to the kitchen, taking up a place next to Neil near the window that opens into the rest of the dining hall. Seeing Neil’s confused expression, he clarifies, “You asked why I care about this camp.”  

Neil remembers Matt telling him that Kevin had shown up unexpectedly in the middle of last summer, though Neil had never asked Kevin about it. Now he asks, “What were you leaving behind?”

“A sports camp.” And then, after a beat of silence, “And my adoptive family, who runs it. They’re . . . not great people.”

Cabin groups are streaming into the dining hall for dinner. Neil sees Nicky laughing at something his Fennecs had said, and Dan doing bicep curls with a giggling Kit hanging off each arm. With both their gazes on the main dining hall, Neil asks, “Why come here?”

“I’d heard about the place. And my mom was friends with Wymack before she passed. I thought I was just going to hide out with my mom’s old friend for a little bit while I figured out what to do next. But then Wymack offered me a job.”

“And now you’re as obsessed with this place as everyone else is.”

Kevin shrugs. “I managed the kitchen for my adoptive family’s camp. Over there, being able to run the kitchen and do what I knew how to do was the only thing I enjoyed. But here, I . . . sometimes enjoy other parts of it, too.”

Out in the dining hall, Wymack’s giving a short intro speech to welcome kids to the new session, calling the Foxhole is their new home away from home. Neil talks quietly so as to not be heard over it. “And Andrew? I notice that he’s taken a special interest in you.”

“When I first came here, terrified that my adoptive family would hunt me down, Andrew promised to protect me.”

“He does that a lot, doesn’t he?”

Kevin gives Neil a sidelong glance. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking he’s some softie underneath it all.”

“Then what is he?”

“Ask him yourself.” Kevin nods out the kitchen window before retreating away from it. Wymack’s speech is over and the meal has begun, and Neil can see Andrew crossing the dining hall with his gaze on him.

Andrew leans his black-covered forearms on the metal counter and says to Neil, “Come to the rock tonight.”

“Why?” Neil asks.

“Because I said I’d tell you if you stayed.”

*****

The woods are dark, but Neil can see the light of a cigarette flicker like a discolored firefly, guiding him through the branches and undergrowth. He sits down next to Andrew, and then leans back on the palms of his hands to look up at the clear, bright stars. Several minutes pass in silence, with only the crickets and the frogs filling it. Though Neil doesn’t look at him, he can feel Andrew’s stable presence beside him. Neil wonders when Andrew’s presence started to feel stable instead of unsettling.

After a stretch of time that could have been seconds or hours, Neil says, “So. Why you work here.”

Andrew takes a slow drag off his cigarette, and then starts talking without looking at Neil. “No doubt you know how I met Aaron. It’s a favorite camp legend around here.” Neil nods. “We actually got along at first. Hard to believe, I know. Then summer ended, and we didn’t get along anymore.”

“Why not?”

“We went home.”

“And?”

“And I went somewhere he couldn’t follow.” He speaks with an air of finality that tells Neil any prying questions won’t be answered. “I only saw him during summers.”

Neil waits for more, but it doesn’t come. Andrew just smokes in silence, his story apparently done. “But that’s not the case now, is it?”

“No. We live together.”

“So that doesn’t explain why you keep coming back.”

“Places take on associations. I wouldn’t expect a runaway to understand.”

Neil understands to an extent. There are plenty of places he’s lived in that have taken on associations. There’s a neighborhood in Baltimore that’s associated with terror, and a rocky beach in northern California associated with loss, and a dozen other cities associated with anxiety or fear. But no matter how hard Neil tries, he can’t think of a place with an association that would make him come back to it. “So this place is associated with being able to see your brother. That’s it?”

“That’s all I’m telling you.”

“Should have known better than to expect to get a real answer out of you.”

“It is real. Just partial. Partially real.”

Neil rolls his eyes. “You and Aaron don’t even like each other.”

“I don’t like or dislike anything,” Andrew reminds him. “Aaron hates me.”

“Why?”

“I killed his mother.”

Neil watches Andrew, waiting for him to smile his manic grin and signal that it was all a joke. But his expression remains blank, his gaze fixed over the glassy lake.

Neil tries to slot this new information into what he knows of the twins. It doesn’t make sense. Their behavior towards each other is cold, but it should be a lot worse if what Andrew’s saying is true.

“Your mother, too,” Neil reminds him.

“Hardly,” Andrew says. “A womb to come out of. She gave me up the minute I was born and didn’t take me back until she had to.”

“So you killed her.”

“Do you think I would kill someone over that?”

Andrew would kill over less than most people would. Neil’s figured that much out. But the violence he’s witnessed so far has always served a purpose. It’s all been for other people in some way. Neil’s never seen Andrew raise a hand to anyone against an offense to himself.

“She was hurting Aaron,” Neil realizes.

“Aren’t you the smart one.”

“And he’s never forgiven you.” Andrew doesn’t respond. “Do you think this place will help with that? Remind him of the good times or something?”

“Please,” Andrew says. “You know I’m not that sentimental.”

“You just said you come here because of happy associations.”

“Happy is a strong word.” He stubs his cigarette out on the rock and lets the butt fall to the forest floor below. “I believe I’ve told enough truths for one night. Your turn.”

“You know my truths.”

“Partially.”

“What else do you want to know?”

“Why do _you_ work here?”

“You already know why.”

“I know why you came here. Not why you’re still here.”

“Well I tried to leave, but someone hit me with a tree branch.”

“That was fun.”

Neil rolls his eyes. “I guess it’s just . . .” He pauses and stares out across the lake. The sight of the starlight reflected on the water is calming, and it helps him put a shape to thoughts that have recently begun to take shape on the edges of his mind. “It’s just nice to feel like I have somewhere I can stay. Somewhere that almost feels like a home.”

“You don’t know what having a home feels like,” Andrew says. It’s said in a flat tone of voice, free of any mockery or insult.

“No,” Neil concedes. “I don’t.”

“Neither did I.”

Neil glances at Andrew, but his face, as usual, gives nothing away. He’s not treating the revelation with gravity. He’s simply leaving it there, for Neil to pick up or ignore as he wishes. Without truly letting Neil into any dangerous secrets, Andrew’s given him a small bit of vulnerability. But from someone like Andrew, Neil knows that small bit is a huge statement of trust. He respects Andrew enough to not mention it. Instead he says, “Most of the kids here probably don’t, either.”

“Now you’re starting to get it.” And Neil thinks he is.

And, apparently, the fact that Neil is getting it means that their conversation is done. Andrew stands without another word and descends from the rock and into the undergrowth. Neil sees his flashlight click on.

“You coming?”

“I think I’m going to sit here for a little longer,” Neil says. He wants to look at the stars and the lake. He wants to see if he can really figure out what it feels like to be home.

Andrew accepts that without question and turns away from him. Neil watches him go, the flashlight bobbing until it disappears entirely. The night air feels little colder without him there, and though the stars and the lake are beautiful, Neil thinks that it feels a little less like home without Andrew’s presence.

*****

“Hey man, I really appreciate it,” Matt says. He leans against a wooden post that makes up part of the ropes course while Neil cuts down vegetation and removes sticks from around the obstacles.

“This is what I’m being paid for,” Neil says.

“I meant earlier. Doing the V-shaped wires with me.”

When Neil had arrived at the ropes course towards the end of a Kit class, the kids had demanded that Matt do the obstacle, since there was now someone big enough to be his partner. Apparently to kids that young, all counselors are counselor-sized, despite the height difference of nearly a foot between Neil and Matt. It had been a bit awkward, but they ultimately succeeded, and the kids enjoyed how funny the two of them looked together.

“Yeah, well, I know how annoying a group of whining Kits must be.”

Matt smiles a knowing smile, but he doesn’t say anything more on the subject. Instead he asks, “Do you need any help with your work?”

“This is your free period,” Neil says. “You don’t have to give it up to do my work.”  

“I just wanted to hang out with you,” Matt says.

Neil doesn’t know what to do with that. He doesn’t know what Matt sees in him, and he almost asks. But Matt’s a cool guy, and Neil kind of wants to hang out with him, too. And he finds himself saying, “Then we’ll hang out tonight after the campers go to sleep. Not while I’m doing work.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Matt says with a smile. He grabs his backpack from where it rests next to a tree trunk, waves at Neil, and disappears.

Neil returns to his work. It’s dull and repetitive, and leaves plenty of space for his mind to wander. Neil thinks about Matt, and about the kids, and wonders what he’s becoming. It feels like this camp is magic, and it’s caught him under the same spell - or maybe curse - that everyone else is under. Against his will, his better judgment, and every lesson his mother has taught him, Neil’s starting to love the Foxhole.

It’s been a week since Neil’s conversation with Andrew about why he works there, and over a week since Neil last tried to run. He hasn’t had any more involved conversations with Andrew, but there have been a couple nights when Neil has found him on the boulder. He’s climbed up to sit beside Andrew, taken the offered cigarette, and sat in a silence that seemed to be communicating something profound, if only he could figure out what.

In that week, Neil’s gotten more comfortable at the Foxhole than he ever would have imagined. He’s formed so many emotional connections that his mother would probably beat him within an inch of his life. He’s hung out with Matt, chatted a little more comfortably with Kevin, sat around the fire with Nicky and Aaron. The other day Robin had confided in him that she was scared to go home, and Neil was so shocked to have a camper confiding in him that he almost couldn’t come up with anything to say.

It’s a disquieting and dangerous sort of situation to find himself in. But Neil thought perhaps he liked it.

As he leaves the ropes course after finishing his work, Neil passes by the whale watch that he fixed a few weeks ago. Carefully, he steps up onto it to check how his work’s holding up. The boards he replaced are study and lying perfectly flat. The whale watch sinks under his weight, and Neil steps closer to the middle to keep it from tilting too much.

Suddenly, it tilts in the opposite direction, and Neil almost falls to the ground. Andrew has both feet on the opposite edge, pressing it down.

Neil doesn’t bother asking Andrew what he’s doing there or how he knew where Neil would be. Andrew goes where he pleases and generally seems to know everything he wants to know. So he just says, “You’re supposed to balance it,” and backs toward the edge of his side until, slowly, Andrew’s lifted off the ground, the two of them balancing each other out.

“I didn’t know you were here to fool around on a giant seesaw,” Andrew says.

“It’s called a whale watch,” Neil replies unhelpfully. “I didn’t know you were here to try to make me fall on my face.”

Andrew steps forward so that the platform tilts quickly backwards, weighed down by Neil’s weight on the far end. Neil hurries forward to keep himself balanced.

“The mobster that was here last week is dead, and most off his mob arrested,” Andrew says.

Neil nearly falls, and it has nothing to do with the whale watch. “What?”

“After last week, an FBI detail managed to track him down. He got arrested. Gave up some names of his colleagues. Died mysteriously in his cell a few days later. Betsy told me.” Then, after he’s given Neil a second for all of that to sink in, Andrew adds, “With that guy out of the picture, Nate’s safe to come back for another session.”

For some reason, that last bit of information excites Neil almost as much as the death of his father’s employee. But he keeps himself focused on the important matter - with whatever issue Nate was involved in cleared up, no one working for his father has any reason to come to the Foxhole. No one’s going to find out where he is. He’s safe for now, at least. He really can stay.

Andrew takes a sudden step forward, throwing off the balance of the whale watch. Neil matches him to stay upright. Andrew then steps back quickly, and Neil scrambles to do the same before the whale watch tips too in the opposite direction. “Now you’re just being difficult,” Neil accuses.

“Me, difficult?”

Neil tries to jump forward so that Andrew doesn’t have enough time to counterbalance him. But Andrew matches him, and then makes an equally quick move of his own. They dance back and forth like that for several minutes, each trying to be too quick or too clever for the other. But they can read each other too well. No matter what, Andrew and Neil always balance each other out. By the time they’re both tired of this game, standing in the middle of the platform close enough to touch, Neil feels himself grinning.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Andrew says.

“Like what?”

“With that stupid smile on your face.”

“I’m staying,” Neil blurts out.

“I thought that was already established.”

“For good,” Neil clarifies. “Even if . . . Even if someone did find out where I was, I think I would still try to stay. Unless it put the kids in danger.”

Andrew nods. “And after summer?”

“I don’t know. Wymack was complaining the other day that he has no one to do year-round maintenance, and he can’t handle it all himself. Maybe he’ll let me stay during the winter. Live with him.” Andrew nods again, an enthusiastic sign of approval coming from him. “Will you visit if I do?”

“And deal with you more than I have to?”

“You’ve told me your secrets and practically forced me to stay here, and you expect me to believe that you don’t like me?”

“I hate you.”

“Strong words from someone who claims to not like or dislike anything.”

“It’s a strong feeling.”

“Andrew,” Neil says, suddenly serious. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For making me stay. For showing me what this place means. I get why you work here now.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“It’s a second home. A place where people who don’t belong anywhere else can finally be happy. And for you, it’s kind of a second chance. Whatever happened to you to make you a fox, you can’t change that. You can’t un-fuck up yourself. But you can make things better for another kid like yourself, can’t you? That’s where all these protection deals come from. It’s not kindness or soft-heartedness. It’s justice.”

“How insightful, Freud. Are we going to talk about my mother now?”

“We already did. You killed her, and it kind of proves my point.”

“I’ll kill you next if you don’t stop talking.” And he steps forward on the whale watch, onto the section directly over the center beam so that Neil can’t balance out his weight. But Neil jumps onto the center beam as well, and now they’re impossibly close, only a millimeter away.

There’s a tension in the remaining millimeter of air, something that demands that small gap to be closed. Neil finds himself noticing things about Andrew that he hadn’t noticed before, like how his hazel eyes are brown in the center but become greener around the edges, or how his blond eyelashes seem white in the sunlight. And there’s a moment of exhilarating, terrifying realization as something that Neil hadn’t realized before becomes obvious.

Andrew hops off the whale watch and walks away. The tension in the air doesn’t dissipate when he does.

*****

It breaks on the rock that night. Neil’s held down against the cool stone, Andrew’s weight above him, while the starlight above paints his blond hair silver and the nighttime noises shield them from the world. Neil opens his mouth to Andrew’s and, in that moment, finally understands what it means to be home.


End file.
